


something about drowning

by SpazzaturaXIII



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst, Anorexia, Bulimia, Depression, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PLEASE READ ALL TRIGGER WARNINGS IN NOTES, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Short Chapters, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2020-03-20 09:31:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpazzaturaXIII/pseuds/SpazzaturaXIII
Summary: when the floodwater comes, it ain’t gonna be clear, it’s gonna look like mudseven kids meet in the same group therapy meetingthey learn that recovery isn't just about helping themselvesplease read all notes





	1. Chapter 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: obsessive compulsive disorder, mentions of panic attacks

Stan remembers the first time he was taken to the hospital. November 4th, 2008. He was six years old. Kindergarten was a big change in any kid’s life, but for Stan, it may have been a bit harder. No, not in the sense that he clutched onto his mother’s pant leg and screamed bloody murder when it was time for him to go (don’t be misled, he did do that), but the issue came in with the other kids. Kids were messy. Stan was not. Stan also wasn’t a normal kid. 

Stanley was Jewish. He was born on August 16th, 2002. He was born in a good year. 2-0-0-2. Two zeros, two twos. Two wasn’t a good number or a bad number, just a normal number. His parents was normal. His dad was a rabbi- cool, but normal- and his mom was an attorney- not necessarily  _ cool _ , but normal. Stan was diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder when he was six years old. That’s not normal. 

Stan goes through his bedroom door every morning three times. He doesn’t know why, but he has to. He remembers one time, he tried not to. He just simply walked through, pretending that he was a different kid. He had made it halfway down the hall before he burst into tears and ran back, his sweaty hands shaking and with an awful desire to throw up. Stan was seven then, so he doesn’t cry like that anymore, but his palms do get all sweaty and gross and his chest starts to ache and he still can’t walk through his bedroom door just once. 

In kindergarten, Stan’s teacher separated the students into pods of five kids. Five was  a good number, so was three. Stan was sitting in a pod with four other kids, all with blue on their shoes. Stan liked his pod. Stan’s pod was kept clean, mostly because Stan would cry or scream when the kids drew on the tables, or came in from lunch without washing their hands, just  _ because _ . But everything had been, in the most general sense, normal. Stanley was a clean kid. He just didn’t like germs very much. It wasn’t normal to flip on the light switch five times before being satisfied, and it wasn’t normal to wash your hands fifteen times a day, but it wasn’t so  _ not  _ normal that there was any reason to be concerned. 

Stan’s teacher made a new seating arrangement four months into the year. That, bluntly put, was the day that Stanley (and everyone who knew Stanley) realized that he definitely was not normal. 

Stan stopped sitting by the kids with the blue shoes. Instead, all the shoes were different. Well, the kids with the blue shoes also had different shoes, but they all had been blue. Stan had stood there, frozen to the spot as his teacher tried to guide him to his seat. Then, his palms got clammy. And then he started to feel sick. And then he started to cry. Stan had cried before in class, so this was nothing new, but Stan couldn’t calm down and couldn’t get a breath in. 

Now, Stanley hardly ever cried when an obsession was triggered, he mostly just tried to undo it as much as possible or attempted to ignore it. But six-year-old Stanley didn’t even know what Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder was. 

His dad had to be called, because suddenly he was whisked away to the principal's office and was forced to sit in the _fourth_ chair away from the door and had to stare at the receptionist eat Cheetos and type on her computer and also talk on the phone and Stan could feel how dirty her hands were. After Stan had pointed to her and told her she was getting germs everywhere, she had turned to him and smiled. Her lipstick smearing the smallest bit on the corners of her mouth, but in that moment, it looked like she might has well have drawn a big Glasgow smile across her entire face in that G-dawful red lipstick. 

Stanley’s dad got to his school in eleven minutes, twenty-eight seconds. He had crouched down in front of Stan, taken some disinfecting wipes out of his breast pocket, wiped down his hands and then Stan’s, before grabbing him and holding him tightly, whispering that he was okay. It took a few minutes and a few different arrangements of chairs for Stan to start breathing normally, but it worked. Stan was able to get his blue backpack from the classroom and go home early. 

As he was being signed out, Stan’s teacher pulled his dad aside. They had whispered to each other for a few moments, and then the teacher turned away and flipped through a few files before handing a sheet to Stan’s dad. He looked at it for a few moments before nodding, turning away, nodding again, grabbing Stan’s left hand with his right one, and walking out of the school. 

Eight days later, Stan was taken to a hospital. Not a normal hospital. A hospital for sad people, his dad had called it. Stan thought that was funny, but his dad had grabbed his wrist and told him that,  _ no, it was not funny, and if he laughed at the people when they were there, he was going to hide the soap in the kitchen. _ Not a normal threat, but for Stanley, it was enough to terrify him. 

The hospital was far away. Approximately fifty-five minutes, fifteen seconds (three fives!) away from Stan’s driveway. It was also clean. That was good. It was almost as if a robot had gone into Stan’s mind to arrange the room perfectly before he got there. Stan knew now, after having been to the same hospital over and over again for the past ten years, that it was so meticulously clean because it was made for people like him. People that weren’t normal. 

The doctor that talked to Stan and his dad about Stan was nice. She didn’t wear any lipstick, which was good, and had blue eyes. She had asked Stan a bunch of normal questions, like, how old he was, and what his favorite color was- to which Stan had replied, six and blue. Then she asked him a bunch of not normal questions. He had walked through the doorway to her office five times, why? He insisted on sitting on the left side of his dad. Why did he want to?

Stanley didn’t know why. He just had to. 

After a long time of answering not normal questions, the doctor got up and told them to wait in the room. Stan noticed that there were a lot of books on a bookshelf behind the doctor’s desk. They were all grey, so Stan didn’t mind looking at them. The chairs where him and his dad sat were also grey. The room was really grey. There were nine cabinets on the wall behind them, there were three bamboo shoots growing from black pots in the right corner of the room next to the door, and the window blinds were always drawn. 

After they had waited for nine minutes, twenty-nine seconds before the doctor came back in. She talked to Stan’s dad this time. Stan watched his dad and noticed, not for the first time, the lines on his dad’s forehead and the little divot between his eyebrows. Stan had noticed them before, but now he was noticing that they only appeared when his dad was sad. That was normal. 

The doctor had told Stan’s dad that he was not normal. In fact, now Stanley being not normal had a name. It had a diagnosis. 

When Stan was diagnosed with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Stan noticed that the lines on his dad’s face never fully went away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for taking the time to read this!  
> this fic has been one i'm a bit nervous to work on or post, just because i know how serious and delicate these topics are. none of this is intended to put mental illness in a glorified light or to offend anyone, and if you have any of these feelings, please message me and we can talk. i don't want anyone to feel unsafe or uncomfortable while reading.  
> expect irregular updates, but i'll try to give a bit of a guess on when the next chapter will be up.  
> expect chapter two next sunday.  
> stay safe and thank you for reading :)


	2. chapter two!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: explicit abuse, brief mention of a suicide attempt, referenced depression, one use of homophobic language  
>  **read:** this chapter is in the past and is not linear with the rest of the plot

it takes four weeks for bruises to completely fade. when youre younger, everyone has bruises. when richie was seven, everyone had bruises. yeah, on their knees and not on their wrists and faces, but they were there. swollen, purple and blue marks that were displayed with pride. they werent as cool when they turned yellow, but they were still cool. richie never got the message that bruises stopped being cool when you went to high school. 

after you turned fourteen, bruises stopped being a symbol of pride. 

just like it takes four weeks for bruises to fade, it takes four weeks for hair to start growing back after it had been shaved off. 

richie could deal with walking to school with a black eye, or being called down to the principals office every week, but the shame that came with walking to school with a shaved head along with a black eye was a million times worse. for some reason, high school students always assume the worst. theyre usually right. 

richies mom packed her things and left when richie was twelve years old. that terrifying haze between child and adult, rolled into one confused being, stuffed with the contrasting thoughts and feelings that came with every passing month and the constant fear of the person that made richie half of who he was. perhaps his dad was the reason richie turned out to be such a loser. but even though his dad sat on his ass all day and did nothing but yell and throw punches, richie hated his mom.

fucking coward. 

that wasnt even the worst thing. she left him.  _ she left him _ . richie never hesitated to say he loved his mom. she was the one thing that he was able to hold on to, but she left without hesitation. she told him that she just couldnt bring him, she didnt have the money, she couldnt support him like his dad could. dictionary definition of an excuse. richie was old enough to know what an excuse was. 

she didnt want to deal with richies bullshit. she didnt want to deal with her kid veering suicidal and hysterical depending on what kind of day he was having. she didnt want a fucking psychopath as a son. 

as understandable as it was, it hurt like a  _ motherfucker _ . 

and so richie was left with her husband. just as equally a psychopath, just in a different way. the night richies mom left, he left too. he went out for a long time, probably seven hours. richie was left at home. so he did his homework. and then he showered. brushed his teeth. as if he wasnt alone at one in the morning as a twelve year old kid. because richie didnt get that option. richie didnt get to go outside and have fun. 

richie didnt get to get bruises from falling on concrete. but honestly, he didnt blame his dad. richie was a handful. his mom had taken the blunt force of his dads anger for the longest time, but as previously covered, she was out of the picture. 

richie had long hair his entire life. not  _ long _ , but past his jaw. it was curly, it went all over the place and never stayed put and it jutted out all weird but richie  _ loved  _ it. his hair was the one thing he could control in his life, and it was as if having no control over it gave him control. his dad knew this. he made richie brush his hair for church (when they actually went) and made him brush it when his grandma died, but other than that, richie left it the way it was. 

his dad decided that it was time for a change. 

he had called richie down, like any other day, telling him that he oughta change up his look, now that he was gonna be sixteen, or now that he decided he didn’t like the way richie looked. richie had walked into the living room, staring at his feet, waiting for his dad to speak to him. but his voice came from the bathroom. 

richie hadn’t thought anything of this. maybe his dad was just in there, whatever, no biggie. he was a strange man, and strange people did strange things. the last thing richie expected to see was a pair of scissors and an electric razor in his dads hands. 

_ what are those for? _

_ your hair.  _ he pointed with the scissors.

richie had taken a step back. 

_ what? _

his dad had taken a step forward. 

_ come here, boy.  _

he pointed to the ground in front of him. richie had done so. richie was a tall kid, he really was. he was over six foot by the time he got to sophomore year, and his doctors all said he still didnt show any signs of stopping, but his dad was taller. richie was terrified of his dad. while the rest of him mellowed out into an apathetic shell of his younger self, that little gunshot of fear he held for his father grew into a gaping hole in his chest with every passing year. 

_ sit down.  _

richie didnt want to, obviously, but he did. people did a lot of things when they were scared. he didnt really have anywhere else to sit other than the edge of the bathtub, so thats where he went. he felt awkward, his knees elevated and his arms bent on the sides of the tub, his dads eyes boring into him. 

_ when was the last time you got a haircut? _

_ a few weeks ago.  _ richie lied.

_ bullshit.  _

his dad had reached forward and took a fistful of richies hair and held it away from his head to see how long it was. 

_ are you lying to me? _

richie had dug himself in a hole, but if there was anything richie knew how to do, it was to just keep digging. 

_ no. _

richie had been anticipating it the entire length of time between when his dad called him into the bathroom to the exact moment his dad hit him across the face, so he wasnt  _ really  _ that startled. 

_ now sit still. _

his eyes started to water (not crying, watering) and his cheek already felt bruised, but he was ok. his dad grabbed a fistful of hair again, grabbing it up with a brute force that richie was sure he hadnt even hit him with, all because his hair bothered the bastard so much. richie reached up and opened his mouth to protest, but his dad stared him down with such a burning anger that richie kept his mouth shut.

_ listen here.  _ richie didnt think he would ever get used to his dads breath. richie smoked, pot, most of the time, but occasionally cigarettes. his dad, however, smoked about a pack a day, along with a good four, five cans of beer. his breath smelled like hell and his stained teeth poked out from thin cracked lips whenever he sneered at richie.

_ youre gonna sit here and keep your goddamned mouth shut, understand? _

richie closed his mouth, crying. 

_ i swear to god, if your queer ass starts crying ill drive these scissors right into your fucking hand.  _

richie folded his sleeves over his palms and wiped at his eyes, sniffling like a pathetic kid. he didnt like crying, but he sure did it a lot. his entire body tensed up as he felt his dads hand in his hair again, but this time, richie didnt move as 

_ dad-  _ his chest was getting really tight around his ribcage and every breath was getting more and more shallow, but he didnt dare move.  _ what did- _

_ shut up! jesus christ, you never shut your mouth.  _ the hand in richies hair tightened and pulled and richies head fell back, and richie began to panic as he saw his dad bring the scissors closer to his head. he moved this time and grabbed his dads wrist with his hands, a motion he didnt even think to make before he did.

his dad was yelling now and richie was protesting and it was loud and it was really hot in the bathroom and richie was still wearing a sweater and his dad got spit on richies forehead- and richie heard a faint, metallic  _ snip _ that seemed to be louder than all the rest of the commotion. the sound of two blades passing each other and suddenly richie thought his head felt lighter but he knew that was impossible because hair didnt weigh that much but richie could feel it but that was fucking bullshit and

_ there.  _ richies dads hand came into view as he dropped a handful of hair in front of richies face.  _ not that bad, is it? _

and that was it. richie didnt really process anything except for the low buzz of the razor and the cool metal against his head and he wanted to  _ die  _ he hated his dad and he  _ hated himself _ and if he could have right at that moment he would have taken apart the razor with his bare hands and  _ slit his goddamn wrists right then and there _ and it would have been better than walking to school with a shaved head and a bruised face because  _ everyone fucking knew  _ and no one fucking said anything and richie wasnt surprised when the counsellor called his dad spouting  _ bullshit out of her whore mouth _ about how he was depressed and he needed  _ IMMEDIATE FUCKING ATTENTION _ or richie would be set on a really fucking shitty path in life and the week was a blur and richie downed  _ eleven xanax pills _ before his dad beat the shit out of him and suddenly he was in a hospital and there was a needle in his arm and there was a lot of beeping and richie wanted to be home again and smoke again but then they gave him another shot and he passed out for thirty-four hours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!  
> i know this chapter was a lot heavier in subject matter, so i hope i handled it all as respectfully as possible. once again, please let me know if anything came off as offensive unintentionally because i don't want to continue on writing and not knowing.  
> expect next chapter up on friday.  
> again, thank you so much for reading and stay safe :)


	3. CHAPTER THREE!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: anorexia, body dysmorphia, anxiety  
>  **READ** : this chapter was genuinely difficult for me to write due to the subject matter. i wrote things i hadnt thought about in a long time and i wrote things about feelings i have struggled to overcome.  
> PLEASE if you are struggling with an eating disorder now or have in the past and you think that this would trigger you in any way, please skip this chapter. there will be a brief summary in the end notes about the chapter, and i strongly advise you read that first if you even think you might be triggered by the subject matter.

UNDERWEIGHT! 

Eddie’s doctor looked so  _ SAD  _ when she told him he was underweight! Eddie fought back a smile and bit the inside of his cheek, because he was UNDERWEIGHT!! His mom was crying, CRYING, she always  _ cried  _ whenever they were at the doctor’s office. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,  _ you’re going to die!  _ Finish your _ food, _ Eddie!! 

The day Eddie Kaspbrak finishes his food is when he’s on his  _ DEATHBED _ ! 

Eddie hadn’t consumed over three-hundred calories in one day for almost four months! That must have been a RECORD somewhere!! Eddie was trying to bring himself down to one-hundred but his doctors said he would go into  _ CARDIAC ARREST _ if he did and even Eddie knew that wasn’t good, but he didn’t care!

“Eddie,” 

EDDIE!! The doctor frowned at him. 

“All of our efforts haven’t done anything.”  _ GOOD _ . “Sonia,” 

His mom raised a FAT arm to wipe away her eyes and her disgusting FAT face was red and disgusting and Eddie’s arms started itching under his sleeves and he hated  _ LOOKING  _ AT HIS MOTHER. 

“Every time we have an appointment”  _ two times a week!  _ “You tell me that you don’t want Eddie in a hospital. I understand your concerns, but I am telling you as your doctor, Eddie is beyond simple medical help.” The doctor turned to Eddie. 

She had red lipstick on. Her red lipstick made her look a bit like a  _ SLUT  _ but Eddie didn’t mind because she didn’t look bad in it, but that did make everything more perfect. 

“It’s not just your weight, Edward.” EDDIE!  _ EDDIE!! _

“My name’s Eddie, Missus.” He smiled. 

“Alright, Eddie. And, it’s actually Miss.” She smiled back.

HAH! She acted as if they were FRIENDS!! Or this was a casual conversation! Eddie laughed back, his eyes closing when he did, because he was normal!! Eddie started laughing again when he saw her lipstick, not because she was FUNNY but because he thought it was FUNNY because it made her look  _ LIKE A WHORE!!! _

“Eddie, I’m becoming severely,  _ severely  _ worried over your health.” That frown was FAKE! She didn’t CARE about Eddie THIS WAS HER  _ JOB _ !! Eddie looked down at his thighs. He was wearing shorts and he hated them so much he HATED them and his thighs looked  _ FAT  _ and  _ DISGUSTING  _ and Eddie looked at his mom and his lip trembled because he looked like HER. “This isn’t just about your weight anymore.” 

Then why was he at a doctors office for his EATING DISORDER?!

“We really tried to hone in on your physicality first, but your weight hasn’t had any positive fluctuations since our second week of meeting.”

THAT WAS THE POINT. 

“This isn’t just about-”  _ it _ “Anymore.” 

He was at a hospital, a  _ hospital _ \- he was at a hospital FOR IT!!! Why was he even there if that’s not what  _ it  _ was about anymore??

“It’s because you don’t want to get better.”

Liar, liar, liar, liar, liar.  _ L-I-A-R _ .

“So much of-”  _ it  _ “is the desire to get better, y’know?” She shrugged in Eddie’s direction. Eddie’s mom was sobbing in the corner and Eddie wanted to GAG she looked DISGUSTING SHE WAS DISGUSTING AND  _ HE HATED HER _ .

“No, not really.” Eddie’s hands felt disconnected. His fingers were purple and Eddie was proud of that but they hurt and the doctor’s office was a  _ freezing  _ 70 degrees but Eddie wore a sweater!! He was SMART! He had done this before!! 

“See, that’s the problem. We can’t fix this for you. You need to want to have control of your life again-”

“I do.” 

The doctor took a deep breath. 

“Eddie, the first thing we need to cover is that you  _ don’t _ .” 

That wasn’t TRUE!! EVERYONE told Eddie that they always said  _ it’s  _ taking over your LIFE, Eddie, Eddie,  _ EDDIE!! _ You’re going to DIE,  _ don’t you CARE??  _

_ It  _ “Starts like that, you know this, we’ve covered it. Even if it’s not a natural progression, eventually your mind wins over your conscious.” 

“That doesn’t make sense. If it worked like  _ THAT  _ you’d have gotten rid of this.” Eddie was going to SHOUT in a few minutes actually NO he was going to SCREAM because he knew the doctor would get MAD AT HIM because she was a bitch and she just wanted to get paid. Eddie just wanted to go back in the lobby with all the fatasses that were there because they wanted to look like Eddie because Eddie was  _ UNDERWEIGHT!!! _

“Eddie, please.” She took another deep breath. “I’m done here.” 

GOOD.  _ FUCK YOU!!  _

Eddie kicked his feet against the exam table and smiled at her. “Have a nice day-”

“ _ You’re _ not done.” She opened a drawer full of papers and pulled out a booklet. “Saint Lucas’s. It’s a little upstate, but this is a doctor’s order.” She handed the booklet to Eddie. “It’s not a hospital specifically for eating disorders, but it’s effective. It combines patients in all aspects of mental health in safe, monitored groups. It’s to help patients surround themselves with people they can build up without feeling competition or threat. ” 

HAH! HAH! This was a funny  _ JOKE _ . 

“This is an inpatient hospital?!” Eddie’s mom WAILED. “I’m not letting him go-”

“It’s not an inpatient hospital. Eddie’s just going to have a therapy session with five to seven other kids twice a week. If they see improvement, it’ll continue like that. If not, they will decide whether or not he becomes an inpatient.” 

“I won’t.” Eddie told her because it was TRUE he was  _ OKAY _ and he didnt need to go to  _ ANOTHER  _ HOSPITAL. 

“Well, Edward”  _ EDDIE _ . “I guess only time will tell. I’ll send Dr. Keene in.” She gave him one last smile, tousled his hair, and then walked out. 

Eddie watched her leave, and was left with his mom. He glared at her because she was crying AGAIN because she  _ ALWAYS  _ cried during doctor visits but it was  _ HER FAULT HE WAS HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE _ . 

Eddie remembered when she first told him he had to watch HIS WEIGHT Eddie thinks he was probably  _ EIGHT  _ or something but she TOLD HIM  _ HE WOULD GET FAT _ and she was right!! And that’s why Eddie was SMARTER than other people! Eddie liked being the way he was he just didn’t want to WORRY ANYMORE!! He was just TIRED. He just wanted to ALWAYS BE THE  _ SKINNIEST  _ PERSON IN THE ROOM! He didn’t know when he was going to STOP but he figured he would  _ STOP WHEN HE WAS DEAD!! _

Eddie peered across the room. The SCALE was there. It took Eddie a couple of tries the first time he WEIGHED himself on a doctor’s scale but he figured it out!! Almost without thinking, he hopped off the exam table. His mom got rid of all the scales in their house because SHE definitely didn’t need them to know she was FAT and DISGUSTING and HORRIBLE but Eddie NEEDED TO KNOW. The doctor wouldn’t TELL HIM ANYMORE. 

All he knew was that he was  _ UNDERWEIGHT _ !!!

His mom looked up, snot running down her chin and tears down her cheeks. EDDIE HATED HER. 

“Eddie, sweetie, what are you doing?”  _ GOD  _ even her VOICE was disgusting. 

“Nothing.” 

“Are you weighing yourself?”

NO SHIT SONIA KASPBRAK!! YOU’RE A GENIUS!!!

Eddie stepped onto the scale. He was five-foot  _ THREE _ . He knew this because he hadn’t gotten his growth spurt even when he was fourteen years old and it started in FRESHMAN year and he was a JUNIOR now and HE JUST  _ STOPPED GROWING _ . 

“Eddie, Eddie,” SHUT UP. “Please, just sit down. The doctor’s coming-”

“Stop talking.” Eddie demanded. 

Ninety four.  

NINETY FOUR.

Eddie felt his heart get faster. SHIT. HOLY SHIT. Oh GOD he swore the last time it was NINETY. He stepped off the scale and kicked it.  _ WHAT THE FUCK _ . It wasn’t FAIR. He was  _ CRYING BECAUSE HE WAS DISGUSTING _ !!!! CONGRATULATIONS EDWARD YOURE TURNING INTO YOUR MOTHER 

Eddie wanted to DIE RIGHT THEN AND THERE he had kept a RAZOR IN HIS FUCKING SHOE but his doctors found it BECAUSE THEY WERE ALL FUCKING BASTARDS AND THEYRE ALL SHITTY SHITTY PEOPLE AND EDDIE

“Mr. Kaspbrak.” 

WHO THE FUCK WAS THIS?

“Can you please sit down?” Dr. Keene was OLD and HE WAS THE ONE THAT  _ GAVE EDDIE LECITHIN PILLS _ FOUR MONTHS AGO! “Mrs. Kaspbrak, please step out of the room.” 

GOOD! KICK THE MOTHERFUCKER OUT!

“I’m not leaving you in here with my son! You can’t-”

“Mrs. Kaspbrak, step out of the room.”

Eddie sat down. He looked at his hands and put his fingers together and admired that ONLY HIS KNUCKLES touched each other and how you could see his VEINS when he moved his hands. But NINETY FOUR???

Eddie knew he was CRYING and he KNEW THAT HE LOOKED DISGUSTING  _ BUT AT LEAST HE COULD FIT A HAND AROUND HIS ANKLE _ !!!!

“Edward-”

“MY NAME IS EDDIE.” He yelled, but he almost felt too tired to. But he NEEDED to tell him that his name was Eddie, Eddie, EDDIE!!

“You need to go.”

“Go where?” 

“You know where.”

“If I knew where I wouldn’t have  _ ASKED _ , dipshit.” Eddie snapped. Eddie’s jaw hurt. Suddenly, his breath stopped short as HIS STOMACH HURT and it felt better than ANYTHING. Being  _ HUNGRY  _ WAS LIKE BEING  _ HUGGED  _ Eddie wasn’t ever ALONE because he had  _ IT  _ HE HAD  _ IT AND HE DIDNT NEED FRIENDS IF HE WAS HUNGRY BECAUSE _

“Eddie, I’m just going to ask you a few questions, alright?” 

“Whatever,” 

“I need you to answer honestly.” 

“Why? If I answer honestly you’re just going to yell at me.” 

“Eddie, no matter what you tell me, you’re going to Saint Lucas’s. I just need to know these things.”

HE WASNT-

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Two hours ago, I ate a cheeseburger and fries.” 

“ _ Edward _ .” Dr. Keene looked angry. “I don’t care if you had a full five-course meal last night, when was the last time you ate.” 

That made Eddie’s HEART HURT his BRAIN HURT he needed to LEAVE THE ROOM!!

“Two days ago.”

“You know the drill, Eddie.” 

“I’m pretty sure it was one-fifteen in the afternoon, but it could’ve been twelve, and I had half an apple. Happy?” 

“What do you think?”

YOU COULD SURVIVE WITHOUT FOOD FOR THREE WEEKS, DUMBASS!!

“Eddie, I’m not a genius.”

Didn’t take a  _ GENIUS TO FIGURE THAT OUT _ !

“I’m not a miracle worker, either.” Dr. Keene held out his hand. Eddie held out his, palm up. His hand was shaking, not because he was cold. “But I’m trying.” it’s “hard. I didn’t want you to go to Saint Lucas’s, but I thought we could have gotten this under control without therapy.” He moved his hand to Eddie’s wrist and pushed Eddie’s sleeve up. 

Eddie didn’t cut! He thought people who cut were STUPID!  _ ESPECIALLY PEOPLE WHO WANTED TO BE PRETTY!!  _ He didn’t NEED to cut because he had  _ IT _ !! HE DIDN’T NEED  _ CONTROL OVER A RAZOR  _ BECAUSE  _ HE HAD CONTROL OF CALORIES!!!!! _

“Alright,” Dr. Keene dropped Eddie’s left arm and reached for his right arm. He did the same, pushing Eddie’s sleeve all the way up past his upper arm. “Good boy,” 

Eddie snatched his arms away. “I’m not depressed. I’ve told you a billion times, I’m not-”

“I’m a doctor. It’s what I’m supposed to-”

“Are you really a doctor?” Eddie challenged him. Eddie liked CHALLENGING people because he was SMARTER than most people!

“Pardon me?” 

“Are you a doctor?” Eddie repeated himself. 

“I don’t understand what you-”

“All you can do is tell me that you’re  _ trying  _ to help me, but how it’s not going to work if  _ I’m  _ not trying, and that’s bullshit. I don’t even know what you’re trying to fix anymore.” Eddie narrowed his eyes. He expected Dr. Keene to YELL AT HIM because he CURSED but he didn’t. “You aren’t a doctor if you can’t fix this.” 

There was a lot of silence for a moment.

“It’s not my job to fix you.” 

“What the  _ fuck  _ is your job then?” 

Eddie HATED him and he HATED ALL THIS PHILOSOPHY BULLSHIT!! HE WANTED A FUCKING ANSWER!! 

Dr. Keene didn’t say anything else. He stood up and patted Eddie’s cheek. 

“C’mon out, Eddie.” 

Eddie stood up and winced as his bones ACHED and his knees knocked together. Eddie had bruises EVERYWHERE and he was realizing he was getting them on the inside of his knees because he knocked them together when he sat down. 

Eddie saw his mom talking to the receptionist woman and she was signing something probably to  _ SEND EDDIE AWAY!!  _ Eddie didn’t care because he HATED HER! 

Dr. Keene stepped behind the counter and held out a sheet of STICKERS! Eddie was SIXTEEN YEARS OLD but he kept STICKERS ON HIS CLOSET DOORS!! He got one WHENEVER he went to the doctor’s office!!

He had  _ ONE-HUNDRED AND SIXTY-EIGHT _ STICKERS!!

“His first session will be in a week, Mrs. Kaspbrak. The information is all in this packet, and Eddie doesn’t have to prepare anything for it. Just make sure he brings a lunchbox”  _ FUCK  _ “and a water bottle.” 

Eddie looked at the sticker sheet and  _ FROWNED _ . He felt PERSONALLY ATTACKED because they were the SAME AS LAST WEEK! He settled for a THUMBS UP one because whenever he looked at the MIRROR ON HIS CLOSET DOOR he would see a THUMBS UP because then he would KEEP PUSHING HIMSELF TO FINALLY GET  _ UNDER TWO-HUNDRED CALORIES A DAY!! _

“Eddie?” Eddie looked up. Dr. Keene was holding a glass jaw of lollipops. Eddie wasn’t going to eat one but he didn’t want to hurt his feelings more than he ALREADY DID.

“Sure,” He stuck his thin, shaky hand in the glass and fished through, grabbing a cherry one. He tucked it in the waistband of his shorts. 

“Stay safe, buddy.” 

Fuck you, too,  _ ASSHOLE _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _chapter summary_ : eddie suffers from anorexia and visits the doctor for a regular check-in. the doctor tells him that he cant help eddie handle the mental aspect of his illness and thats whats holding him back. he says the best idea for eddie would be to put him into a therapy program with other kids suffering with mental illnesses.  
> -  
> thank you so much for reading! this chapter was not only incredibly personal to write, but it's also the one im most nervous to post. ive seen a lot of fics that take things as serious as eating disorders and portraying them in a way that is incredibly disrespectful and inaccurate, so i did my absolute best to portray just how difficult it is to struggle with a disorder like this.  
> please comment if you feel like it, it means so much to me!  
> stay safe :))


	4. chapter four!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of bipolar disorder, one use of derogatory language (r word), some offensive jokes, brief mention of drunk driving

richie drove himself to the first meeting! he shouldntve been because he had slept for two hours because he couldnt fall asleep and he sat on his ps4 and played fallout, but then he got bored and then he watched creepy youtube videos until he finally crashed and woke back up at seven. 

he reached into the glovebox and swerved along the road and cussed a few times and snorted, his hand closing around the winstons he kept in his car and flicked open the top with his thumb and grabbed a cigarette with his teeth because even though richie was dumb he was smart enough to keep one hand on the steering wheel because he didnt want to die! that wasnt completely true. the best way to put it was: richie wasnt going to go out of his way to die, BUT if something came around that could kill him, he wasnt gonna try and fight it.

once again that wasnt really true!

richie had been smoking since he was  _ thirteen _ !!

_ FUCK _ !

richie slammed his palm against the steering wheel as a driver swerved into his lane and he laughed as it honked, but he was mad because jesus christ it was hard being a better driver than everyone else! richie honestly loved reckless driving but he didnt like reckless driving on the highway because he saw a car flip one time when he was on his way to the city to visit his grandma who he didnt get to see anymore because she was his moms mom. 

no, richie took everything back about the dying thing. ok so maybe he wouldnt hang himself in the bathroom but he would get in car races and smoke weed and also take whisky shots but HEY at least he didnt shoot heroin! at least not yet but richie didnt like needles they made his muscles tight and he really didnt care too much for them so-

where was this place? 

richie tapped his phone a few times and glared at google maps because google maps was such an ass sometimes. richie finally got his screen centered and put on his sunglasses and looked into the rearview mirror and grinned at himself and then actually just smiled because he felt good!

ironic that the first time hes felt good in weeks was on his way to a therapy meeting. 

richie used his knee to keep the wheel steady as he got the lighter out of his jean pocket and flicked open the zippo at the end of the cigarette still hanging from his lip. it took a few moments before the cigarette actually lit but it caught eventually. richie threw the zippo into the backseat before honking the horn again to keep himself alert because he could feel himself losing focus on the road because holy SHIT highways were boring.

richie unrolled his window and stuck his hand out, tapping the ash out onto the road as he squinted at his phone. he couldnt see very well because his glasses were on the dashboard because it was sunny and he wanted his sunglasses and yknow sometimes richie got tired and didnt think about shit sometimes because who had time to think? 

richie opened his mouth and almost said something to himself in a voice, but (his years of being told that it wasnt normal to talk to yourself as different people) his instinct stopped him. richie wasnt schizophrenic, even though HOLY SHIT it sounded like he couldve been. richie did voices when he was younger, younger being up until he was sixteen, because he thought they were funny. 

richie thought he was funny! he didnt really have to THINK it because people told him he was funny. and when he was younger he discovered he was good at voices! at first they werent specific characters, he just said something racist or sexual and people laughed and so richie earned himself the name  _ trashmouth  _ and richie loved it because it made him feel wanted and richie wasnt used to feeling that.

that wasnt emo! his parents genuinely didnt pay much attention to him and thats why richie was such a fuck up.  

richies dad didnt like voices and thats why richies stomach sometimes turned if he one just slipped out because even if his dad wasnt around he was so used to the repercussions of how much his dad hated them and it was his INSTINCT yknow? again richie didnt necessarily  _ want  _ to die but if he ever did, he would go to satan and just tell him  _ i would like to inquire about a mr wentworth tozier… mm yeah i have a bit of a bone to pick with the bastard _ .

richie took a long drag on his cigarette before swerved in the road AGAIN because jesus christ people really didnt know how to drive. richie was pretty sure he was gonna die on the road. but if he could choose, he would die on stage. he actually wasnt sure how or what on stage meant, but on stage! he honestly fantasized about going out in a bang, like harry einstein or something. his last words being something witty before he just collapses. but richie wasnt a lucky person, so he would probably be forced to deal with passing out on stage like tommy cooper. where everyone keeps laughing because they think its still a joke! but no, richies just dead. 

richies phone went off to take the next exit. he hadnt even been paying attention to where he was driving and honestly richie worked better like that. he drove better when he was smoking because he wasnt focused on driving and it was easier for his hands to go on autopilot because the moment he started thinking about whatever he was doing everything went downhill. 

almost immediately after richie pulled off the highway, he saw it. it looked sad. or maybe just because richie associated inpatients with being sad. he laughed to himself. 

richie pulled into the parking lot and found a spot relatively fast, and he assumed it was because saint lucas was mostly an inpatient hospital. that was scary to richie. unconsciously, he ran a hand through his hair and was reminded that his hair was a privilege. he didnt need it and he really didnt have it for the past, what, two years? his dad cut it a week before he turned sixteen. he was a few months over seventeen now. ok, so richie was right. 

he opened the car door and stepped out and took a deep breath. not of fresh air, but from the cigarette. it was much more refreshing. 

he slammed the door shut and started walking towards the front doors. he was reminded of the one time he had to go to prison. HE wasnt in prison, but he was visiting his dad. richie actually wished his dad was dead and not in prison because then he wouldnt be reminded that hes still alive and he could honestly escape at any moment but that was really dumb because prisoners couldnt escape that easily, but it still freaked richie out enough so badly that he stayed awake at night and stared at the ceiling or stood up and paced around his room listening to indie rock until he cried because richie really needed an outlet and if music was a good one, than goddammit he was going to take it. 

richies dad was in prison now because he hit a dog and then a telephone pole drunk driving with a blood alcohol level of 0.73. the past two months of richies life had been the best two months he could remember. 

richie looked at his nearly new cigarette and frowned because he was positive that you werent allowed to smoke inside, so he threw it on the ground and snuffed it out with his foot because he knew he probably shouldnt walk into a therapy session smelling too much like smoke. he already did but he didnt care.

he pushed the door open and stepped inside the lobby and immediately was reminded that he really was back in a hospital. he was in a hospital because he was sick. 

he was in a hospital because he was sick. 

JESUS CHRIST!

richie really didnt have too much of a problem with bipolar. he didnt most of the time. 

it was just frustrating. yknow, one day he would wake up and impulsively rip apart his razor just in case he needed it and tie himself a noose and then lay in his room with his shirt off with a heavy feeling in his throat like he was going to cry all day sweating his balls off and then the next day hed wake up and laugh at old vines until his sides ached and then drive to boston just because he felt like it! 

richie didnt even notice the receptionist was talking to him. 

“name?” she had really pretty eyes. they were blue and downturned and she had thick eyeliner that was only slightly uneven.

“uh, richie tozier.” 

“nicknames arent in our databases, hon.” 

“didnt know you had a stick up your ass about nicknames,  _ hon _ .” the receptionist didnt look amused. “its richard.” 

“youre here for the group recovery session, i see?” 

“thats what you call it?”

“pardon?” 

“im surprised they arent called retards anonym-”

“mr. tozier i have to ask you to refrain from using that kind of language here. if i must remind you this is a hospital and that kind of terminology is  _ completely  _ unacceptable.” jesus she DID have a stick up her ass. “just keep walking straight in that direction and the room on the left at the end of the hallway. everyones in there already. youre late.” 

“nice observation,” 

richie turned on his heel before the receptionist could say anything else to him. the hallway was hardly a hallway, there were only two doors that richie had to pass before he reached the room that he was instructed to go to. 

he knocked on the door before opening it, not waiting to hear a response. and the moment he walked in, he realized that he was really there. he was really in a hospital about to talk about his feelings for an hour with other sick people because doctors just piled all the fucked up ones into one group and figured they were good. 

the room just felt depressing.

richie didnt make eye contact with anyone until he sat down. actually, even then, he kept looking at his knees. his jeans were ripped because he was punk, and his shirt was black but he was wearing a hawaiian shirt over it and that made most people stare at him because people didnt regularly wear hawaiian shirts much, except on school theme days but no one did those because they were dumb.

“mr tozier” richie looked up at the lady he assumed was running the group because she addressed him first. “we waited for you before we got started.”

“i appreciate the efforts, miss, but i really wasnt anxious to be missing this.” 

“im miss sharon, if you want, you can drop the miss.” she looked next to her. there was a boy sitting next to her, his legs crossed and his hands placed delicately on top of his knee. he looked like a fucking pussy sitting like that, and richie made a mental note to tell him that when he got the chance. his hair was curly but nicer than richies and it curled around his ears and FUCK that was a fucking gay thing to point out but richie was confident in himself so he didnt take it back. “you first. your name, how old you are, and something you collect.” 

he looked nervous and his eyebrows furrowed. “my names stan” HAH, stan. “im fifteen and i like… wait, can i just say something i like or does it have-”

“its something you collect, dumbass. she literally just-”

“now, mr tozier. i understand that youre frustrated with stan, but you have to understand that hes frustrated that he cant express how he-”

“excuse me, miss sharon?” stan looked at her. “i just wanted clarification.” 

“well,” sharon looked pretty fucking embarrassed now. SERVES THE BITCH RIGHT. “then, yes. you can say something you like.” 

“uh,” stan made eye contact with richie. “i really like birds.” 

holy shit it got EVEN better.

“birds?” richie snorted. sharon gave him a testing look and opened her mouth and before she could call richie out again he said: “calm down, sharon. i wasnt going to say anything.” 

stan slid down in his seat, his legs still crossed. richie wanted to go on a tangent, but luckily, something else occupied his mind as sharon looked to the guy next to stan. he was black which made richie look briefly at everyone else, and richie saw that they were all white and that made richie laugh, and sharon glared at him. 

“would you like to share with the group?” 

richie looked at her. 

“no, not really. i feel like whatever i was going to say would not be respected or appreciated here. im learning to keep my mouth shut.” sharon raised an eyebrow. “thats why im here, right? to learn how to shut the fuck up sometimes?” 

richie felt the anger in his chest. richie reacted with anger when he was first taken to a therapist, the first time he went to the hospital, the first time he was suspended, and when he was registered for this fucking thing. richie had a habit of reacting with anger in most situations. richie hated when people corrected him or called him out on his behavior and he was an angry person so he got called out a lot and-

“if thats what these sessions are for you, then thats what theyll be.” sharon wrote something on her notebook. 

for the first time all day, richie didnt have anything to say. that only made him angrier. 

“you can go,” sharon looked at the guy next to stan. 

“im mike,” again, mike was black. not a bad thing, just the first thing richie noticed. he looked tired, too. richie wanted to ask him if hed just come from a funeral, because richie thought that would be funny. and if sharon opened her mouth about how that wasnt fair and that it was TRIGGERING for some people and richie already figured that sharon didnt like him very much and richie wasnt as dumb as some people thought and he thought it would be best to not get on everyones bad list. 

“im seventeen” so was richie! “and i like knitting. that sounds lame, but its actually very therapeutic.” 

“so, we have a bird-fucker and the eighty-year old virgin, who else wants to admit their secret fetishes?” 

everyone awkwardly shifted. sharon made eye contact with richie, but didnt say anything. richie felt his arms itch because he knew it was funny, making people feel insecure was always funny and richie knew that because people ALWAYS laughed when you targeted peoples insecurities and maybe it was richie being dumb, but something told him that the people sitting in the circle werent ones to find those kinds of jokes very funny and his ears were getting hot and richie started regretting everything but then someone laughed.

richie turned to look at the only girl in the circle. she had red hair and sea glass eyes, and she had LAUGHED at his joke and richie smiled at sharon and he let out a shaky breath

“see we have one person here without a stick up their ass.” richie smiled at her. she smiled back at him and when she did, richie noticed that she had a gap between her teeth. 

“you dont have any chill do you?” 

“never have, and i assume thats why they forced me to go to this shit show-”

“excuse me, miss marsh, mr tozier,” sharon ruined EVERYTHING jesus christ. “youll have time to socialize later, now we just want to get to know everyone.”

“im ben,” the person next to mike spoke up. he seemed pretty normal. he was fat, though. same with mike, not a bad thing, just an observation. he had really bad hair, and his voice sounded like he smoked twenty packs a day, but smokers werent fat, so he was probably just sick. “im seventeen, and i collect historical newspapers.” 

“whats your favorite one youve found?” stan spoke out of turn, but sharon didnt say anything when HE spoke. 

“um, i have a really interesting one from the sixties. it was right after jfks assassination and it kinda dives into lee harvey-”

“excuse me, but wouldnt this possibly fall under the category of  _ triggers _ , sharon?” richie was such a bitch sometimes, but honestly, thats what made him friends. people liked being friends with people who challenged authority, apparently. it put some drama into life. 

“possibly, but i have a good summary of whats been going on with you all, from doctors reports and police reports.” sharon raised her eyebrows at richie. “it doesnt appear like it will trigger anyone.

“is it my turn now?” the girl with the red hair spoke again. before sharon said anything, she started talking. “im beverly, im seventeen, i like smoking, and im bipolar.” 

RICHIE LOVED HER.

“miss marsh, i dont think-”

“i  _ collect  _ cigarettes. and im bipolar.” she smiled at sharon, and then at richie. richie thought he might be in love with her, but maybe she was just the only one who had shown richie ANY appreciation.

“ok, if youre satisfied with that introduction.” sharon wrote something else on her clipboard. “your turn, sweetie.” 

the boy next to beverly looked up at sharon. his ankles were crossed and he was wearing socks that went past his ankles which was definitely interesting but richie would be lying if he said he wasnt wearing the same socks under his jeans.

“um, im eddie, im sixteen, and i like collecting…” eddie (gayest name richie had ever heard) furrowed his eyebrows. “i guess i collect stickers.”

richie laughed. “thats a joke is-” 

“h-h-hey” the boy sitting next to eddie spoke. “f-fu-fuck off.”

richie looked at the way eddies cheeks flushed and put two and two together and realized that eddie had  _ definitely  _ had his cherry popped by the new guy and richie didnt know whether to call him out on that or his stutter. he settled for both. 

“b-b-b-by g-g-god! h-he s-s-s-s-speaks!” richie slapped his knees. other than the three of them, everyone in the circle appeared to be increasingly uncomfortable. “now first question for eddie, did mushmouth fuck you in the ass or the pussy?”

“mr tozier, can you please-”

“both” eddie made eye contact with richie. richie raised an eyebrow. 

sharon switched her offended gaze from richie to eddie. “excuse me?”

“to answer richies question, both.” richie already had this kid figured OUT the shallow motherfucker. “bet you wouldnt know what either of those feel like.” 

“touche, eddie spaghetti.”

“what the fuck is-”

“i-i-im bill, im seven-seventeen, and i-i-like comic b-books. a-and i have a s-stutter, b-b-but trashmouth over here already f-figu-figured it out.” bill glared at richie.

“the legacy carries on.” richie winked. he knew bill didnt know what he meant by that, because bill didnt know about richies title of  _ trashmouth _ but that almost made richie feel better about it because it made him positive that he completely earned the title of having a dirty mouth- louis ck  _ eat your heart out _ \- and if there was one thing richie wanted to be remembered by making inappropriate jokes and saying fuck too much. 

“alright, everyone got a chance to speak, right?” sharon looked around the group. “because-”

“excuse me, i dont think i got a chance to speak.” richie placed a hand on his chest. beverly chuckled again. 

“richard, youve had plenty-”

“ah, see, im already wrong.” richie shrugged and crossed his arms but quickly ran a hand through his hair because he realized he was nervous because everyone in the group except for beverly already hated him, or maybe eddie, even, because he made a joke to him and usually richie took that as a sign that someone liked him but sometimes richie was very very wrong. 

“im richie, not richard, but if you feel like it, dick works too,” this got a chuckle out of a few people, but richie was staring at sharon. “im seventeen years old, and i like collecting old records.” richie was almost surprised that he actually responded with something normal. he could tell sharon was too because she raised her eyebrows and wrote something down on her clipboard.

she sighed. “ok, thats everyone. im gonna get the ball rolling with a little question exercise. im gonna ask a super easy question, and you answer. if for some reason you want to skip a question, just say pass.” she wrote something else down before leaning back in her fold up chair that richie was realizing really werent comfortable. “itll go in the same order as we introduced ourselves in. whats your favorite color?”

stan was first. “baby blue”

mike “blue”

“green” ben looked up at beverly but looked back down at his hands.

“black.” beverly looked at richie and made a frowny face at him and richie chuckled. 

“pink or red” eddie adjusted his shorts.

“are you gay?” richie leaned forward on his knees. eddie jumped and looked at him, his eyebrows furrowed and his brown eyes wide. 

“excuse me?!” he sounded offended. sharon snapped her fingers. 

“richie,  _ not appropriate _ . bill, your turn.” 

“green” 

richie thought for a moment. “red” eddies shorts were red. that wasnt the entire reason why richie said what he said but he made eye contact with him for a second and eddie was seething so it was worth it. 

“whats your favorite instrument?” sharon asked. 

“how is this helping us?” richie said something again. 

“what do you mean?” 

“this is a mental hospital right?” 

sharon raised an eyebrow. “correct”

“how is talking about the rainbow and what music we fuck with going to help us?” richie felt anger in his words, but he was also just upset. he was there to get fixed, and they were doing this? if he was coming to this shitstorm once a week, he better be fine by the time hes done. 

“its a process. by talking about things you like and things that make you happy, you will subconsciously start to build an environment for yourself based around those feelings, they just have to be voiced first.” she explained. “this is your first meeting. our next meeting is really going to get the ball rolling.”

“that makes negative sense.” beverly was sitting far up on her chair so she was at a sharp angle with the ground, her legs stretched out in front of her. 

“doesnt have to make sense, as long as it works, im going to use my tactics.” sharon smiled at beverly. it sounded like a phrase that would be accompanied by a fake smile, but sharon looked genuine. damn good actress, probably. “favorite instruments.” 

stan looked near excited to answer. “i play piano.” whoop dee  _ fucking  _ doo stanley. 

“how long have you been playing?” sharon inquired. 

“since i was three.” 

“very interesting.” sharon nodded her head before looking to mike. 

“uh, i dont think ive ever really thought about it, but i really like the saxophone. not like, in music, but solo.” he had a faint smile on his face and richie decided that as much as he utterly hated everyone in the group (except beverly) mike had a fucking cute smile. 

“i dont really focus on specific instruments, but i like 80s music.” ben smiled too. jesus fuck, what was this, disney channel? no one got this inspired over music. if sharon thought they would stop being emo motherfuckers after talking about what music they liked then richie could confirm she was really as dumb as she seemed.

“i like the drums. theyre dope.” beverly didnt smile. 

“i play the flute.” eddie scratched his forehead. 

richie lurched forward in his seat. “thats a  _ FUCKING  _ joke, isnt it?”

“what the hell is your problem?” eddie looked angry. his ears got all red. 

“you play the flute?” richie let out a screech of laughter. beverly caught on and she started laughing too. sharon didnt say anything. 

“yeah, im first chair.” eddie said that like it was something to be PROUD of. eddie must not have caught on because he didnt address what was so funny about it.  
before richie got another chance to speak, sharon snapped at him like he was a _dog_. “richie, youre on your last warning. i understand your position and i understand how you may be processing things right now but i have to let you know that you must be respectful in this setting. this is not a request.”

“what are you gonna do?” richie raised an eyebrow at sharon and tried to ignore the way his heart was pounding. “kick me out?” 

there was a beat of silence as richie and sharon stared at each other. richie was challenging her, and she knew that too, but she seemed not to care as she just sighed. 

“bill?” sharon looked at bill. 

“oh, im not really into music.” he looked at the floor. 

“well, have you ever heard a sound that made you happy?” sharon leaned forward on her crossed leg. “like, music-wise. or have you ever played anything?”

“i really like the piano.” bills gaze flitted quickly to where stan was sitting. that was fucking  _ gay _ . 

stan didnt notice. 

richie decided to start analyzing the obvious one sided tension coming from bill, even though he was probably looking too far into it, but he didnt care because he probably just pining after having another relationship with a dude because women were annoying and holy shit, what do you mean ‘im fine’ because last night you were definitely fine but now youre crying and he was  _ TRYING TO HELP _ but- 

“richie?” sharon looked at him expectantly.   
“bass.” no hesitation. 

“do you play?” sharon looked interested. 

“yeah,” richie tucked a curl of hair behind his ear. “i mean, not much anymore, my dad gets annoyed, but, yeah, whenever i can.” his dad wasnt stopping him anymore but richie still couldnt bring himself to pick it up again.

sharon smiled at him, genuinely. “keep doing that, richie.” she wrote something down. “i play the violin. i was also first chair, eddie.” eddie smiled at her and richie wanted to curb stomp him for being frustratingly innocent. “alright, well this meeting was planned to be shorter than all the others, just to ease you all into it. you guys have your lunch break and then your disorder-focused meetings, so ill let you all go.” 

“isnt it, i dont know, bad to call them “disorder-focused” meetings?” bev made air quotes when she spoke.

“please elaborate. stan, ben, sit back down, this involves all of you.” sharon spoke with sternness, but she still seemed nice. 

“i mean, isnt it kinda bitchy to say ‘go to your disorder meetings, problem children’ to a group of kids who all want to hang themselves?” beverly spoke with complete apathy. bill seemed to tense next to richie and completely involuntarily seemed to move his hand towards him, and for a reason that only god knew, richie didnt pull away. he didnt really want bill to touch him, but something in the back of his mind kept him from preventing it. 

“first off, dont ever say anything like that again, beverly. you know how jokes like that affect you, but you have no idea how they affect other people in the room. if you want to make jokes like that with your friends, who you know and whose boundaries you know, by all means, go ahead. but here,  _ especially  _ here, where you dont know any of these boys, dont say things like that.” sharon kept a calm face. richie decided she probably had botox because she never showed any emotions and it was making richie really angry for some reason, you werent allowed to be so fucking stone faced. 

“okay,” beverly said it like she was being scolded by her parents, which in a way, was kinda what was happening, except sharon wasnt her mom, or that would be a shitstorm and honestly richie wanted to see that family reunion. “still didnt answer my question, but okay.”

“i was getting to it, beverly.” sharons voice reminded richie of his mom. “im not going to sugar coat you kids. you all have disorders. theyre called disorders for a reason, im not going to teach you guys to think its something different. you all have something wrong with you, and thats why youre here. it sounds harsh, but unless you guys fully understand that theres something wrong with you, youll see no need to get better. 

too often do we see people normalizing mental illness, and although its important to bring mental illness to the public eye and make people aware that it exists, normalizing it isnt going to solve anything. if people think mental illness is normal, then you guys wouldnt be here. i know this all seems harsh now, but youre all smart kids. i have your school reports on record, i know youre all smart kids. i dont need to sit here and tell you all that theres nothing wrong with you, because i think we all know thats not true.” sharon ended her speech. “everyone hold hands with the person next to you.”

richie opened his mouth to say something, but sharon beat him to it. the bitch was onto him. 

“richie, i dont care if you arent gay or that youre not a pussy, this is important and i am telling you you have to do this.” richie was almost impressed that sharon said pussy, but shes probably heard worse. She worked at a mental hospital, for fucks sake.

richie frowned and took bill and sharons hand, looking at everyone else. 

“you dont have actually do it, but i want you to know that this is how ill close every meeting.” sharon bowed her head and closed her eyes. everyone else did too, except for beverly and richie. beverly mouthed something to richie, but DAMMIT he couldnt read lips so he just nodded and chuckled and hoped that she was making a joke and she was because she smiled and stared at eddie, who was tapping his foot on the ground. 

“i want you all to make a goal for yourself. doesnt have to be big, doesnt have to be monumental, i just want you all to make one goal for yourself. maybe you want to finally do that recital, or you want to finally get around to finish cleaning your room, anything you want to accomplish in the next week.” richie inwardly laughed. HOW WAS THIS HELPING HIM?! “for some of you, i strongly encourage you to make a goal that will benefit you. dont make a goal to wear that, or eat that, make a goal that wont disappoint the people who care about you, make one that-”

_ jesus christ. _

eddie broke the “ritual” and stood up from the group. he had an angry look on his face, and then threw his hands down, letting go of bill and beverlys hands. he glared at sharon, and without saying anything, stormed out of the room. everyone was silent as the doors swung back and forth as he walked through them. 

“lunch is next, right?” beverly looked at sharon. 

“yes,” 

“okay,” beverly ran out of the room, grabbing the door handle before it had completely stopped swinging, and it made richie slightly uneasy that the doors didnt open one way or another, they just swung back and forth like at the hospital, when you were on a stretcher and they just burst through the doors and that made richie thing of some WEIRD shit so he turned his brain off as best he could. 

“should we go get her?” mike asked. richie looked at mike and noted how handsome he was, why he fuck was he here?

“shes worried about eddie, im going to let her go to him. you guys have to learn that youre going to be supported by each other more than youll be supported by me.” sharon sighed and stood up. “on that note, im gonna let you guys go.” and with that, she stood up and collected her things from under her chair. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!!  
> its been a while since ive updated this but im glad to finally get around to it!  
> i really love the way this chapter turns out, and i hope you all like it too.   
> the next chapter might be a while, but its all subject to change so dont count on anything. expect it in the beginning of july.   
> i hope you all enjoyed this chapter and stay safe :)


	5. chapter five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of body image issues, comparing weight

ben felt sick to his stomach when he looked at beverly. 

it was a familiar feeling that he always got when he saw pretty girls but it wasn’t because he was nervous to talk to her but it was the absolute knowledge that he would never talk to her. 

never in a thousand years. 

he watched her walk in with eddie who he didn’t look at but he watched her and he watched her hair bounce on her shoulders and he watched her come around the table to sit right next to him instead of taking the spot by richie and that must have meant she liked him!

she smelled like smoke but he didn’t care. 

he ducked his head and ignored the conversation that was beginning between richie and beverly because the longer he listened the more sure he was that the seating arrangement was just chance.

chance was funny like that.

ben thought of Henry Tandy and chance.

he had the chance to decide between shooting or not shooting and he chose not to shoot and ben wondered if he wished he was never given that chance to choose.

he wondered if beverly regretted her choice to sit next to him instead of richie. 

richie was taller than ben ever hoped to be and ben wished he looked like him because he heard the way that beverly was laughing and ben wished he made someone laugh like that. 

ben thought it was stupid that he compared beverly and Henry Tandy.

he glanced diagonally from himself and saw eddie sitting with his hands clasped in his lap staring ahead at the table.

he wasn’t eating either. 

beverly was talking to him.

“Do you want these?” she was handing him a bag of sunchips from her lunchbox and ben shook his head. 

“I ate before I got here. My mom makes me wake up” stop talking “early, so I have breakfast” she doesn’t care “pretty early, and it all checks out, I guess.” 

beverly just smiled and shrugged and ben’s stomach turned she was so pretty.

“I get that. I woke up, like, thirty minutes before I had to leave, so this is my breakfast and lunch.” 

this was his chance.

conversation that wasn’t forced at all it was just over the time of day they were eating and ben’s hands were getting sweaty just thinking about getting home to eat lunch and beverly started talking to someone else. 

“Why are you here?” she was looking at mike sitting across from her and ben smiled to himself because he remembered everyone’s name at the table.

“Does that really matter?” mike looked like he was challenging her but he had a smile on his face that let ben know that he wasn’t actually mad or anything he was just messing around. 

“I want to know. It’s important to me. Helps me, y’know, get a good bearing of who I’m being forced to deal with every week.” 

richie laughed at beverly which was weird because it wasn’t even a funny joke or even a joke really but he still laughed with his mouth open and ben started to feel sick again. 

“Well, I don’t think it’s very important right now.” mike looked next to him and nodded his head to bill who looked like he was just trying to eat his sandwich in peace. “Like, Bill. I don’t need to know why you’re here, I just need to know that you are here, and we should-”

“Shut up, you sound like Sharon.” richie rolled his eyes dramatically and pointed at the bag of chips beverly offered ben. “If you’re not eating those, and” he hesitated “he doesn’t want them, can I have them?” 

“Yeah, sure,” beverly smiled at him and ben’s heart broke because of course she was just offering him them because she was polite the conversation stuff was just her being polite and richie didn't even say thank you and ben decided that he hated richie a little bit.

“Thanks!”

never mind but ben tried to imagine he didn't just to give himself something. 

“Did your parents all force you to come here?” eddie looked up from the table. 

ben looked at eddie’s neck and felt his hands get sweatier and he wished he didn’t hate eddie so much but it was hard when he was the physical opposite of himself and also the epitome of what ben was killing himself to be. 

“M-M-My parents m-made me.” bill looked up from his half eaten sandwich. “I didn’t r-really want to, b-but they s-sa… sa-s-”

“Said it was for the best?” richie interrupted him which ben thought was just him helping but judging by the way bill looked at him after it was anything but helpful.

“They said it was f-for the best.” 

richie raised an eyebrow at him and turned away from him and ben noticed he kept glancing at beverly and he couldn’t tell if it was negative or positive but ben was going to go with negative.

“A doctor made me.” richie was unscrewing the cap to a sprite bottle and ben hadn’t had a drink with sugar in it in a year because his teeth were so messed up and his dentist had told him if he drank sugary drinks he would have to get his teeth pulled. 

“My doctor made me too.” eddie spoke out fast like he regretted it and ben was worried richie would make a comment but he didn’t and ben was relieved. 

“I asked my doctor if I could.” beverly spoke and ben’s face flushed and he hated it because she didn’t even say anything to him!

“Really?” stan (another name he remembered) spoke up and ben thought to himself that he liked the sound of his voice.

“I was fucked for a while, y’know? I was really bad in school and I didn’t have any friends, really. I didn’t like it, so I asked about coming here.” beverly sounded so brave and she shrugged like nothing could ever bother her and ben was positive he would never meet anyone as good as her. 

“My mom doesn’t even know I’m here.” richie shrugged when he said it and crumpled the paper bag he brought his lunch in into a ball and glanced around the room and ben assumed he was looking for a trashcan. “I don’t think she’d care too much.”

“How does your mom not know you’re here?” bill looked at his hands even though he was talking to richie and ben noticed that he was wearing a sweater like eddie and ben knew he shouldn’t ask but he really wanted to ask why but he could make assumptions but ben looked back at richie because he wasn’t replying that quickly.

“My mom left a while ago, and she’s not really in the picture.” ben watched richie as he said this and he really tried to hear any change in his voice but instead he just saw his cheeks get really red but ben was impressed that he couldn’t have told if he wasn’t looking at him. 

the table was silent for a moment because no one knew what to say and Ben imagined it wasn’t unlike the silence inside the Serpukhov 15 bunker in 1983 because richie just set an emotional bomb and no one wanted to handle it, but out of everyone at the table, eddie was definitely the last person he thought would respond.

“My dad left too. I don’t think…” eddie started bouncing his leg more aggressively than before and ben knew he didn’t want to keep talking but ben knew that he felt like he couldn’t stop once he started.

“I live with my aunt. I’m not allowed to talk to my dad.” eddie looked at beverly and ben could see his chest rising and falling and he knew the feeling and that’s why ben wasn’t going to talk much at the table. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you live with your aunt? Sorry, if you don’t want to answer, I get it.” ben liked the way mike talked because his voice was quite and calm and he reminded ben of the way his mom talked. 

“Oh, no biggie. My dad was a real asshole, let’s just leave it at that. My mom already left, so my aunt took me in. That’s all that’s important, I guess.” beverly shrugged and ben looked down at his hands and wanted to say something to beverly but he decided it would be better if he didn’t. 

“Glad I’m not the only one with mommy and daddy issues, I guess.” richie said this like a joke but ben could tell he meant it and suddenly ben realized that this is what his mom meant that the hospital wasn’t just to get better yourself but that maybe it was to help other kids get better.

but ben tried to shove that down because to be honest he didn’t care about richie or bill or the other people sitting with them.

he cared about beverly because he thought he must have been in love with her but he wanted eddie to get better too because eddie was winning.

 he knew eddie knew this too and the way eddie’s eyes flashed between himself and ben made ben positive that if anything came out of this program him and eddie would leave, having met at a weight somewhere in the middle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!   
> this one took a lot longer to get out there because i've been incredibly busy lately with online classes and camps and other things like that, but I hope it fulfilled all your expectations and was worth the wait to you keeping up with this!  
> i'm not entirely sure when the next chapter will be up, but it will surely be before august.   
> thank you once again! stay safe <3


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w: none, in a therapy group for PTSD

Mike wished he was doing his homework.

He knew why he was there, anyway, to an extent.

He knew that he needed better ways to cope with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. 

However, he felt as if he coped with it better than most would.

He understood himself better than any therapist could, and he had no shame in doubting their abilities to “improve his livelihood”- in the words of the pamphlet his doctor handed him. 

If he was getting upset, he’d remove himself from the situation.

When he entered a room, he’d sit closest to the exit. 

The room that the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder recovery program was being held in looked similar to the room where his group recovery session was held, just with a bookshelf for what Mike assumed were publishings on Post-Traumatic Stress    
Disorders and a couple of desks for which Mike assumed were for individual activities. 

Mike wished he could have sat facing the door instead of the rest of the room. 

He felt as if someone might come up from behind him and trap him in (by blocking or locking the door, or something along those lines), except if he could just make eye contact with them, he could immobilize them and run out. 

Mike hadn’t ever felt immobile, but he wished he understood how it felt. 

He looked around the room.

He noticed Richie sit across from him and noticed the way that his eyes darted quickly around the room, and the way his upper lip twitched as if he were waiting to say something, and Mike wondered why he was there. 

That was stupid, he was there for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. 

Mike had concluded to himself that Richie must have had some form of anxiety of sorts due to his- what Mike could only describe as- manic behavior. 

But Mike wasn’t an expert.

Beverly sat next to him but she was on her phone, her expression unreadable.

Mike felt some frustration towards her blank exterior in contrast to Richie’s incredibly open one, but he figured that he wasn’t the one that had to be prepared to read people’s emotions. 

He waited for Beverly to put her phone down before he cleared his throat to wave at her. 

He smiled when she waved back.

Mike looked at Richie and followed his eyes as they moved across the room, eventually falling on him.

He smiled. 

Richie breathed a sigh of relief and leaned over to Beverly and said:

“See? I told you I could tell who would be in here.”

Something twisted in Mike’s gut and he knew Richie meant well, but something about the way he now knew that they were talking about the other people in the group made his stomach lurch.

Mike wanted to ask him what gave it away. 

He also didn’t really want to know, because then he knew he would fixate on it whenever he met someone new, so he figured that it would be best for him not to ask. 

He was in tune with himself.

So much so he actually fought going to the meetings for the longest time because he knew that he would get far too invested in everyone else and forget to actually work on himself.

He assumed that didn’t matter much because what was there to work on?

Mike was smarter than most kids his age, but he didn’t really show it, and he assumed that was why his aunt and doctor assumed he needed to be there.

He thought it was a little insulting.

Beverly and Richie were still whispering, most likely about the other people in the room, and everyone else was minding their own business.

Some looked the same age as the three of them, and some looked much older, late-twenties.

Mike found it insulting to be grouped with people like Richie and Beverly. 

He definitely thought they were nice people (Beverly, more so- he was still hesitant to say Richie was nice), but he saw the way that Bill and Stan practically winced away from them when they spoke, and Mike knew it wasn’t from their Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, it was just their personality, but their behavior made him self-conscious. 

He knew it was attention-seeking behavior, but God-Almighty, was it working.

The therapist walked in. 

Mike looked at his watch.

He was late.

Mike didn’t actually care too much, but he felt like if there was anything you should be on time to, it was therapy. 

Especially if you were the therapist.

The therapist had a full face of hair, and paired with his bold looking eyebrows, Mike concluded that this would not be the easiest man to trust in a situation like the one he was in. 

Mike thought Jake Gyllenhall, but as a convicted drug lord. 

He sat down in the last remaining empty seat.

“Sorry about the wait, guys, had a few things to fill out.” 

He seemed nicer when he spoke. 

“I’m Dr. Bennett, and I’m going to act as a… let’s say guide... though this program. All of you enrolled in this group have endured some sort of trauma at some point in your life, in the form of a certain event or as a continuous stage. Over time, or possibly even recently, you may have noticed that you’ve changed. You may have noticed that you respond differently to things that seem normal for everyone else, or you may notice that you seem to connect with people differently, or perhaps not at all.”

Mike didn’t like this.

“You think about things that you feel like you shouldn’t, you evaluate your surroundings in ways you didn’t before or differently than those around you. Depending on what you went through or possibly even are going through, your morals have changed. You don’t tolerate certain situations and behaviors that other people view as normal, or you do tolerate those that others view as out of line.”

Mike watched Richie roll his eyes as Dr. Bennett said that, and Mike wondered if they were thinking the same thing:

This was bullshit. 

“Your beliefs, your spirituality, your sense of fairness, and your faith in people all may have changed. You’re here to understand why you’ve changed and how to cope with the differences in your life. Perhaps even learn how to see the world as you did before.”

There was silence in the room and Mike wondered if anyone else was as skeptical as he was, but Mike was also wondering if it was all true what Dr. Bennett was saying. 

“I want to know what you guys think this program is. We’ll go around in a circle, say our names, and then what we’re expecting this program to be like or what we’re expecting to learn from it..” 

Dr. Bennett gestured to himself. 

“I’m Dr. Bennett, and I’m expecting to help each of you take control over your lives again.”

Richie leaned over to Beverly and whispered something to her and Mike watched Dr Bennett’s gaze shift to the two of them, but Mike was surprised when he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t know if it was the difference between the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder meeting and a general group therapy meeting, or a difference in Dr. Bennett and Ms. Sharon, but he felt that whispering probably wouldn’t slide in Mike, Beverly, and Richie’s group therapy.

Mike was startled when the person next to Dr. Bennett started speaking.

“I’m Dorsey, uh… I’m expecting to learn, um, to learn how to trust people again.” 

Dorsey’s ankles were crossed under his chair and he was running his hands together, cracking his knuckles nervously as he did. 

“I’m Christine, and I want to learn how to be comfortable in normal places again. Like school, uh... yeah, like school and stuff.”

Christine looked comfortable, she bounced her leg a little, but it seemed like nothing in comparison to a few other people.

Her hair was curled and she had on nice makeup, like she did it for the meeting, and Mike wondered why someone like her would be at a Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder group therapy meeting. 

Mike felt bad that he thought of something like that. 

“I’m Beverly, and, uh… Shit, I dunno. I want to… can I skip my turn?” 

Dr. Bennett shrugged.

“Do you really not have anything? Or do you just not want to say?”

Beverly’s face fell a bit and she shifted in her seat and Mike was uncomfortable because Dr. Bennett seemed a little condescending and it didn’t seem like the right thing to say to someone in a Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder group therapy meeting.

Mike figured it wasn’t best to coax something out of someone in a situation like this. 

“I don’t have anything to tell you.”

Beverly’s face hardened and her eyebrows furrowed, but as she lifted her arms to cross them, Mike noticed that her hands were shaking a little. 

“Disappointing.”

Mike didn’t know if Dr. Bennett would be helping anyone that much.

Richie’s leg was bouncing up and down faster than anyone else’s in the group and his mouth hadn’t stopped twitching since they all sat down so he looked relieved when Dr. Bennett looked at him. 

“I’m Richie, and I want to learn how to trust people.” 

Wasn’t that the surprise of the century. 

Beverly’s face reflected exactly what Mike thought as she looked at Richie with an almost incredulous look on her face. 

Richie didn’t say anything funny, and as cringe-worthy everything he had said that day had been, and how much Mike had hated every time he made a joke about something intensely not funny, he definitely liked it more than that bomb. 

Mike remembered that Richie did something similar at lunch when he talked about his mom.

“I’m Wendy, and I…” 

She kept talking, but Mike made eye contact with Richie. 

_ You good? _

He mouthed to him. 

Richie didn’t mouth anything back, just put up two thumbs and smiled widely at him, crooked teeth and all. 

Mike didn’t know there were still parents who didn’t put their kids in braces.

“I’m Bill, and I want to feel comfortable doing normal things again. Stuff I usually did everyday.” 

Mike had met the first two “Bill”s of his life in the span of three hours. 

It was Mike’s turn.   
“I’m Mike, and…”

He thought about what he did when he walked into the room.

“I want to think normally again.” 

Dr. Bennett didn’t say anything about what anyone said. 

“I appreciate all of your participation in this.”

He scribbled a few things down on his clipboard.

“When you went through the trauma that led you to be here, your senses changed. Perhaps, you were more attentive to the way a certain person spoke to you over time, or you were more attentive to the way you spoke to them. Maybe to avoid repercussions. Maybe you’ve felt frozen in place, unable to cope with what was going on in front of you, or maybe you knew exactly what to do, but in hindsight, it was the wrong thing.”

Beverly leaned over and whispered something to Richie, and he simply giggled back. 

“Due to what you went through, you go through everyday life on guard, anxious, aggressive, you don’t let people get close to you and you push those away who already are. You feel alone. You feel vulnerable, desperate, unsafe, and this is how PTSD is running your life for you. However, the purpose of this program is to show you that PTSD is a condition of the present.”

Mike didn’t know if he believed him because he already knew some coping mechanisms and they didn’t work. 

Mike didn’t see how this could be fixed. 

“We will focus on how PTSD has taken control over your life and how your anxiety prevents you from doing things that bring you joy or makes you do things that are unsafe. You’re here to improve your quality of life by developing skills and coping skills that will help you when faced with situations that you avoid now.”

Mike looked around the circle and his eyes fell on Christine (if he was remembering her name correctly) and noticed she was on the verge of tears. 

Mike hoped that Beverly and Richie wouldn’t notice, but if they did, he  _ prayed  _ they didn’t say anything. 

“Your trauma doesn’t define you, nor should it have the power to control your life. You aren’t going through those events anymore. And compared to what you went through, today is going to be a piece of cake.”

Someone asked to go to the bathroom, so Dr. Bennett gave them a break, but Mike didn’t feel like moving.

Mike missed the other group.

This sounded like every essay he’d read about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, everything his doctor told him, he wasn’t hearing anything new- but the frustration he felt was.

He didn’t know why he felt frustrated now. 

He had felt like this for years.

He figured it was because he was there and he was feeling the same way he always did, even though Mike knew he wasn’t going to be fixed in one day. 

That wasn’t how therapy worked. 

Mike turned around in his seat and looked at the door to the office and felt a rush of relief when he saw it was open, and felt even better to think that it had been the whole time because if something were to have happened Mike wouldn’t have known what to do if it were closed.

He saw the issue.

Mike knew therapy didn’t fix you in one day, but he was suddenly overwhelmed by wishing that it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who doesnt know how to time manage?  
> (hint: its me)  
> yes, i know i said a chapter would be up before august, and yes, i know that its september, but life and school got in the way. heads up now, i have no clue when ill be posting the next chapter. im not sure how forgiving school will be in the upcoming weeks, but ive been feverishly writing recently which is a wonderful feeling to have after being in a stump for a few months :)  
> lets talk about the elephant in the room tho  
> yall saw him carve that shit in the bridge, right?   
> thank you so much for reading and stay safe <3


	7. chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: abusive parents, discussion of eating disorders, non-explicit reference to self harm  
>  **READ** : this chapter does not use proper punctuation! no commas are used, but i made my best attempts at making it as smooth and coherent as possible. this is just a heads up for those who have difficulty reading with certain stylized writing!!

Beverly didnt mention to Sharon that she already sort of knew most of the people at therapy

In her defense she genuinely didnt even really notice that she already knew most of them at least not until she saw them all on Monday 

She had 2 classes with Richie- PE and lunch-  _ but did lunch even count as a class?? can it even count as lunch if its 3rd period _ ?

Eddie was in their lunch period as well but he was a junior but he was also in painting with Beverly

Beverly hadnt noticed him until Monday when he tapped on her shoulder gently because he just wanted to say hi but Beverly wished he had sat down because she liked Eddie

Beverly also had American History with Ben

She thought it was a little embarressing that she was in a sophomore class as a senior but it didnt actually bother her because history was fucking stupid anyways but Ben was the only one out of them that Beverly noticed when she saw him in at therapy

The way that Ben averted his eyes whenever she tried to make eye contact with him let her know that he noticed her too 

_ He could have at least said hi it wasnt that hard  _

Beverly lived with her aunt

She moved to live with her after her dad was arrested on charges of aggravated sexual abuse domestic battery unlawful possession of a firearm and child abuse

_ Having a sibling would have taken the load off dont you think? _

Her mom died of cancer when Beverly was 10 so it was just her and her dad for a long time

_ If police officers actually believed women maybe she couldve saved herself some heartache _

She had only been in her new school since the beginning of the school year and it had only been two weeks because they started on August 8th

Beverly has only had 10 days to learn the 1000 kids that were in her class which is why she didnt recognize Richie and Eddie at therapy

It was Wednesday  _ which was the worst day  _ but at least she had something to do during lunch that day because she quietly observed Richie sitting with his friends trying to figure out how she wouldnt have recognized someone like him

Beverly really liked his hawaiian shirt especially paired with the obnoxious and neon Thrasher shirt he wore underneath  _ which was definitive evidence that he did not skate _ but she appreciated the blatant disregard for fashion he exhibited 

It seemed like in any situation Richie was in whether it was lunch or therapy he only had one goal:

To be the center of attention

_ When you dont get attention from your parents so you resort to wearing things that make people recoil when they see you to start conversations _

His hair was as loud as his outfit meaning that it didnt look like he had brushed it in nine months and he was halfway out of his seat which was strategically placed in the center of the group

Beverly wanted to talk to him

She felt like it was basically a courtesy at that point and she wasnt prepared to be ignored by him at school and all buddy buddy with him during therapy

She had to admit it though

Richie was one of the easiest people to talk to that Beverly had ever met

_ Probably because he understands what its like to be too much of a pussy to do jack shit but to still have a box of razor blades just in case _

Beverly stood up from her seat deciding to stop being a fucking creep and to actually go talk to him

For some reason she half expected him to pretend he didnt recognize her but then again Richie didnt seem like the type

_ Knowing someone for a total of four hours means you understand them inside and out _

She didnt even make it halfway from her table to his before Richie looked in her direction and they made eye contact  _ fuck maybe she doesnt want to talk to him at school really _

Richie stood up from the table with a shit eating grin on his face that made Beverly calm down a little bit

“No fucking way!!!”

Once he got to her he held out his hand but Beverly didnt take it because she honestly didnt know what he wanted her to do with it but Richie reached down and grabbed her wrist and moved her hand to high five himself

It was weird

_ Richie is weird _

“No fucking way what?”

Richie shrugged and then laughed again

“You go here?” 

“No actually I snuck in to stalk you”

Richie grinned and Beverly realized she actually had no clue what she had planned on saying to Richie once she got to him

“Wait can I tell those guys that Im leaving? because then we can go talk somewhere because I have something CRAZY to tell you” 

Richie bounced from leg to leg as he spoke

Beverly realized that Richie probably didnt even know Ben and Eddie were at their school but Beverly didnt see Eddie in the lunchroom  _ they couldve had a reunion!!  _ but it didnt take a genius to figure out why

“Yeah yeah go for it”

Beverly kicked at a crumpled paper towel on the tile floor and shifted her weight back and forth as Richie got his stuff which was taking a lot longer than she thought would be necessary but nonetheless she stood against the wall and waited for him to get back to her

Richie nearly shoved Beverly towards the exit when he returned to her but and Beverly looked back at his group quickly enough to see that each one of the boys had turned to stare at her all chuckling to each other

_ Were they gonna come chase her and grab her pigtails??? Were they in kindergarten???? _

She wanted to ask but she didnt think Richie would be telling

“Where do you want to go?”

Richie took long strides down the hallway that required Beverly to fast walk to keep up with him

“Uh we could go to the library-”

“They dont let us talk in there though”

Something about the disappointment in Richies voice upon the mention of not talking was an incredibly funny thought to have

_ He probably got anxious if he didnt open his mouth every ten seconds  _

“Thats a fair point so I guess we could literally just find an empty stairwell to go sit in”

Richie started giggling

“What?”

“Im assuming you mean the Science Wing B hallway?”

She raised an eyebrow

“Why do you assume that? What goes on there?”

“People go there to like vape and skip class and shit so I thought that you might-”

“I dont vape I smoke”

“Well then I thought maybe you-”

“I went to a hallway at school to smoke a pack? Trust me Id love to but I think the smoke alarms would beg to differ”

“You dont skip and go there?”

Beverly stopped walking and looked up at Richie who was easily over 6 foot by a few inches 

“Why are you assuming that?”

“I dunno you just give off a very “fuck authority” kinda vibe” 

Beverly gave up and laughed 

“Im really kidding with you I already knew about the Science Wing”

_ Whoop dee fucking doo she knew about the b wing hallway _

Richie let out an annoyed breath and slapped his hands to his sides

“You gave me a heart attack right there!! I thought I offended you or something”

“No no no its all good dont worry”

Richie all of a sudden kinda jumped into the air and waved his hands in front of him like he was drying them off 

_ He acts like hes five _

“Okay okay wait did you know that Ben goes here??”

_ Imagine getting that excited over seeing the fat kid from therapy at school _

Richie sounded so excited when he said it that Beverly almost wanted to pretend that she didnt know but it would be hard to pretend that she had never seen Ben in case Richie found out that they were in a history class together

Richie didnt seem like the type to get mad over something like that but Beverly wasnt taking any chances

“Oh yeah!!! Hes in my history class but he sits on the other side of the room from me so I didnt really know him when we got to the meeting”

“That makes sense”

_ No it really didnt _

“Did you recognize me when you got there?”

Beverly lowered her voice a lot when they started walking down the Science hallway because the last thing she needed was for someone to hear Richie yelling and see them walking towards the prime makeout spot in the school

That wasnt what Beverly needed at all

Richie didnt seem to get the memo

“Not at all!! I think I have tunnel vision or something!! At school I mean like I never really talked to you so I guess my brain filtered you out or something”

_ Fucking freak _

“You got a lot of stuff up there or something?”

“Oh baby you dont know the HALF of it!”

_ If he ever called her baby again she would kill him  _

Beverly slipped her backpack off of her shoulder and set it down on the stairs crouching down to lean against the wall of the empty stairwell

It was in the corner of the school that only led two places- a long hallway with nothing but a custodial closet and the emergency exit to the library downstairs and then another long hallway at the end of science labs 

AKA no one ever used it

“Do you know why Ben was at therapy?” 

_ Jesus Christ shes stupid why did she think he would know that???? _

Richie shrugged and sat down a few steps below Beverly and stretched his legs across the stairs and she was once again reminded of how tall he was- his legs almost touched the other wall

“I have no clue… he seemed pretty normal at lunch and at the meeting so he might just be depressed and shit”

_ Theyre depressed and shit too that explains jack shit _

“Depressed and shit?”

“Yeah yknow like nothing too out of the blue hes just sad”

Beverly hated the way she laughed at that because it most definitely was offensive  _ it literally was _ and probably should have been offensive to them too judging by what they were in for

_ Bipolar was half depressed so that was invalid _

Beverly guessed shed wait until a depressive episode to be offended

They sat in silence for a minute

“Eddie goes here too”

“No fucking way!!!!” 

“Hes in this period for lunch too but Im not really expecting to see him in the lunchroom at all” 

“Why not?”

_ Richie was one of the stupidest people she had ever met  _

Beverlys face got hot and she pulled her legs closer to her because she thought that was a reasonably obvious thing to say

_ Because it is obvious to say something like that when someones ankles are so small that their socks dont fit properly _

“Is it not obvious?”

“Bev Im really stupid so it probably is actually really obvious Im just not getting it so you might as well tell me”

_ At least he was fucking aware of it _

Beverly didnt think it was her place to say what Eddie was there for

“I dont know I feel like he probably wouldnt want us talking about it-”

“I think I know what it is but Im really hoping its what youre going to say because if it isnt Im gonna feel like a total jackass”

“Richie Im gonna give a lucky guess and say were thinking the same thing”

Richie pulled a Redbull out of his backpack at deadass 9:30 in the morning but Beverly decided that she wouldnt comment on his personal habits 

_ Richie seemed like he wouldnt be one to have the best habits  _

“Okay so if we are on the same page- do you think hes actually kissed any boys?? or is he just-”

_ Was Eddie fucking gay????? _

“What the fuck????”

Beverly started laughing but Richie looked less than amused

“Are we not on the same page??? Jesus Christ Beverly tell me!!”

“You dumbass I didnt even think about if hes gay or not okay that is the LAST THING I was thinking about”

Beverly wondered why that was the first thing Richie thought about but once again decided not to comment 

_ Beverly could definitely picture Richie going to fucking town on a twink but she wasnt sure if Eddie was the best contender _

“Beverly I feel so bad please tell me Im not even trying to get all in his business I just want to make sure I dont say something I regret”

He sounded so sincere that Beverly was sort of taken aback

She sighed and ran her hands down her face suddenly feeling uncomfortable about saying it out loud

She didnt know why she was- it seemed glaringly obvious to her and she only had to watch him walk into the room because it wasnt just how small he was it was the way his eyes darted from person to person and the creepy fucking way he seemed pleased with himself that he was the only one there that looked two steps from being a Tim Burton character

“I dont want to sound weird”

_ In her defense- anorexia was a weird word _

Richie snorted and put the Redbull between his hands and twisted his face as he tried in vain to crush it 

“Youre worried about sounding weird to me? Thats a fucking first”

_ She doesnt have anything to lose so what the hell _

“Eddies got an eating disorder”

Richie stopped messing with the can 

His face got kinda red which made Beverly confused-  _ why was he the embarrassed one???-  _ but after he seemed to process it he just shrugged

“That must really suck to deal with”

_ How can someone be that nonchalant????? _

Beverly knew he just didnt know what to say

“Yeah it really must”

Richie threw the can like how youd throw a basketball in the direction of the trashcan but missed and the can hit the ground much louder than Beverly would have liked

He sighed and started fiddling with his shoe laces which Beverly noticed were completely frayed

“My mom had an eating disorder”

Beverlys blood ran cold-  _ was this sharing time now??? _

“Oh Im really sorry”

_ THATS the best she could come up with???? _

“Well dont be sorry for me I wasnt the one being told to lose weight by some alcoholic cunt”

Beverly raised an eyebrow mostly to herself because Richie was avoiding eye contact

“Your dad Im assuming?”

“Shit Im sorry you didnt have to know that Im sorry I really shouldnt have put that on-”

_ Fuck why did he have to make her feel bad about it?? _

“Richie its ok”

Richies hands were by his mouth and Bevrrly noticed he was biting his nails

“Dont do that its bad for you” 

_ Gross too _

“Jesus fucking Christ Im sorry that was-”

“Richie!! If I had a problem with it do you think I would have said anything?”

“I just met you how would I know???”

_ Ouch _

For some reason Beverly felt embarrassed when he said that

Beverly did this thing when she met people

She wouldnt tell them anything about herself but learn everything she could about them and then get offended when they didnt know her boundaries because she thought she was kind of an open book!!!!

Beverly hated that people didnt know what to say to her  _ she wasnt the best at saying things to other people either  _ and she hated even more that she got so angry at other people for reacting like  _ normal fucking people _

How was she supposed to tell someone that she kept her hair short because her dad liked it long and even though he was in jail she knew he would find some way to touch it????

_ You dont fucking tell people that _

Maybe Beverly could tell Richie

_ Dont tell Richie _

Okay

But maybe she needed to tell someone who was so much like her that he would say exactly what she wanted to hear

“I cut all my hair off when my dad got arrested”

Richie looked up at Beverly quickly but he didnt look confused 

He actually smiled

“I let my hair grow out after my dad did”

They didnt talk for the rest of the period and they just sat on their phones because she assumed they were both afraid to say something stupid and they would mess up the acknowledgement that some shit just carried weight for reasons that she couldnt explain

But for some reason Beverly wanted to cry

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!  
> i absolutely adored writing this chapter and i hope you all enjoyed bev and richies relationship as much as i enjoyed writing it :)  
> i hope youre all enjoying my characterization of these characters, and id love to hear what you guys are thinking about the story so far!! im really proud of it and im so refreshed to be inspired to write again!  
> i hope you all liked this chapter and stay safe! <3


	8. CHAPTER EIGHT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: ((not as severe or graphic as Eddie's first chapter)) anorexia, body dysphoria, slight internalized homophobia, one use of homophobic language, anxiety  
>  **READ** : this chapter depicts a character with an eating disorder. it is **much** less graphic and disorder focused than chapter three, but i still strongly encourage any readers to take into consideration their own safety and mental health before reading eddie's chapter. there will be a brief chapter summary in the end notes.

Exploiting loopholes was Eddie’s FAVORITE HOBBY!!!

His therapist-  _ one of them, Eddie had THREE _ \- told him that a good way to manage his life and schedule was to get involved at school!  _ Eddie  _ get out of your own head and do something!! You’re sad because you’re  _ bored, Eddie!!!  _

Eddie thought that was HILARIOUS.

His therapist told-  _ demanded _ \- that Eddie get involved, so he figured he would join something that would actually make him happy! 

He wanted to join CROSS COUNTRY!!!

Eddie figured there was no better way to keep his calories DOWN and to make his therapist SHUT UP! Besides, Eddie was a great runner! He had a lot of practice over the years so he might as well give in and make his  _ therapist  _ happy.

Eddie was sitting in the class house and was only SLIGHTLY annoyed that they were making him wait because he did NOT work so hard to get this athletic physical only for it to be an ENTIRE PROCESS!! He had no clue that you had to get a parent AND doctor’s signature for an athletic pass, but he thought it was funny either way.

Eddie, you don’t have to work out that much,  _ EDDIE,  _ are you even  _ listening? _ Of course he wasn’t! Eddie knew Mr. Keene wouldn’t sign an athletic form for him because his BLOOD PRESSURE was too high and it was dangerous for him to work out- at least that's what’s been pounded into Eddie’s head for the last year and a half. But Eddie had years of practice forging signatures so he didn’t think about it TWICE when he snuck into his mom’s room to find one of the hundreds of medical documents she had from over the years, so practically NOTHING could stop him!

The longer Eddie looked at the form in his hands the more warped the signatures seemed and-  _ SHIT- _ maybe this wasn't a good idea!! 

_ Would they call him?? _

Eddie assumed they didn't care enough to call each doctor who signed an athletic form. 

But if he did, he had no CLUE what Dr. Keene would do, and Eddie got sick just THINKING about what he would do and he got dizzy thinking that maybe he’d try and put him on  _ lecithin pills _ again! Last time he was, his mom-

His mom would kill him!!! His mom would start sleeping outside of his door again!! He would lose his bedroom DOOR  _ AGAIN- _

His fingers left the paper damp and Eddie was SWEATING and he stood up and he had to go to the-

“Hey, Eddie!” 

He dropped the paper on the ground.

“Hi-” His knees cracked as he crouched down to pick the paper up again and he probably looked DISGUSTING and his face was hot and-

“Come on in.” His counselor, Mr. Rogan, had only interacted with Eddie two times in his entire high school career. He was NO HELP when Eddie wanted to drop down from honors to regular english and he was NO HELP!! when Eddie decided that MAYBE his mom was a little toxic and  _ FUCKING DISGUSTING _ TO BE AROUND and Eddie decided that when Mr. Rogan told Eddie that there was NOTHING he could do then, he figured there was  _ nothing he could do for him EVER _ .

“Sorry about the wait, buddy.” What the fuck? “The beginning of the school year is always a little hectic.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Rogan. It’s my free period so I don’t really have somewhere else to go.” Well yeah no SHIT it was your free period, dumbass!!! Eddie HATED having lunch so early- HAH!- lunch?? He could  _ imagine  _ eating at nine in the morning was annoying but lucky for him he didn’t have to worry about that!!! 

“You really don’t have to” He looked at his computer while he talked “email me to turn in a form, but now that you’re here, I actually wanted to talk to you about a few things.” The chairs in his office reminded Eddie of HOSPITAL CHAIRS. 

That was literally the  _ WORST  _ thing Eddie could’ve been told because if he wasn’t nervous before he SURE AS HELL was now!!

“Yeah, uh” The paper was gross at that point but it got the job done “here’s the athletic form. I, uh, know it was supposed to be turned in by the ninth, and I know it’s almost September, but-”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re joining...” YES!! He WAS joining!!! Eddie almost forgot that he was sweating for the first time all summer!

“Cross country.” Eddie finished for him with a smile.

Mr. Rogan looked Eddie up and down and Eddie felt his skin crawl and his stomach turn. What was he looking at? Eddie was _ BACK AT NINETY!  _ Did he read it wrong? Did-

“You look like a runner.” 

Eddie’s heart genuinely skipped a beat and he was suddenly smiling so hard his NECK HURT and he remembered how DRAINING life was.

“R-Really?”  _ PLEASE  _ KEEP TALKING!!!

“Yeah, runners have those super skinny legs, you look like you run five miles a day.” DEAR GOD  _ DON’T STOP!!! _

“Thank you!!” 

Eddie could have been doing  _ better _ .

Did he think he looked _HEALTHY_? Because Eddie could SWEAR that he was assuming he worked out and he didn’t think he looked _HEALTHY,_ _right??_ Mr. Keene NEVER told him that, but was he DOING SOMETHING WRONG??

“But, hm, is your mother” FUCK “available around this time?”

SHIT SHIT  _ SHIT- _

“No, not usually.” HER FATASS WAS SITTING ON THE COUCH AT HOME!! OF COURSE SHE WAS- “Why? Is there something wrong with the athletic form?”

 “No, uh” Mr. Rogan had a greying beard but a full head of dark hair so Eddie made the reasonable assumption that he dyed and Eddie thought it was HILARIOUS that he would go through that trouble only to be a HIGH SCHOOL counselor. “I’ve just received some concerns from teachers.”

EDDIE FELT LIKE HE WAS BACK IN MIDDLE SCHOOL!!

That was the EXACT thing his english teacher told his mom during a parent teacher conference! That was the FIRST YEAR  _ it  _ STARTED!! Eddie’s been  _ struggling _ , Mrs. Kaspbrak! Eddie seems  _ SICK, _ Mrs. Kaspbrak! And then worst of all,  _ EDDIE?? Do you want HELP???  _

He hasn’t WANTED help for  _ SIXTEEN YEARS!!!  _ Why would they-

“Oh, uh, what have they been saying?” Eddie  _ KNEW  _ what they were saying but he played dumb because teachers only sugar coated shit to kids who weren’t smart!!!

“None of it is really academic,” Mr. Rogan had Eddie’s TRANSCRIPT up “you’ve had consistent grades throughout high school…” he frowned “Your weighted GPA is a two-point-eight, are you aware of that?” 

OF COURSE he was aware of it!!!

“Yeah, school has always been kind of-” 

“Well” EXCUSE HIM! “most of the grades that brought you down last semester we're missing assignments, and you're in all regular classes. Are you prohibited from doing your work at home?”

How was Eddie supposed to respond to that????

“Uh, I usually have a lot of chores to do. My mom works all day.”

Mr. Rogan ROLLED HIS EYES and Eddie assumed that counselors weren't really supposed to do that!! 

“Every student has chores, Eddie.”

“Some of my friends don't-”

“That's not what” HE INTERRUPTED HIM AGAIN! “I wanted to talk to you about, but don't think I won't bring it up again, buddy.”

Eddie  _ HATED  _ the way he tried to act like his friend. He WASNT his friend, he was his COUNSELOR. He had a JOB and his  _ JOB  _ was to make Eddie not KILL HIMSELF OVER-

“Yeah, uh” Eddie looked at his hands and touched his bones through his skin and  _ giggled  _ when his tendons flexed as he moved his hands. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Is something funny?”

MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS, ASSHAT!!!

“No, I just, I dunno… I laugh when I’m nervous”  _ NO HE DIDNT!!!  _

“What are you nervous about?”

_ Sharon made eye contact with Eddie when she asked him questions and Eddie liked it. _

_ “I don’t know…” he looked HUGE and he knew everyone else knew it and he needed new shorts and new sweatshirts and BEN WOULDN’T STOP STARING and “Do I look nervous? I, shoot, Miss Sharon, I feel  _ sick _ , can I-” _

“Eddie?”

“I don’t ever come in the counselor’s office, I feel like I’m in trouble or something.”

“Don’t worry” Oh! Eddie wasn’t nervous AT ALL anymore! “I just want to make sure you’re doing okay. So…” Mr. Rogan turned BACK to his computer and Eddie could see he was looking at an email. “How do you feel when you’re at school?”

FUCKING  _ SICK _ . 

“Tired,” Eddie ALWAYS felt tired. 

“How much sleep do you usually get?”

Eddie either slept for sixteen hours or not at all! There was NO in between.

“Depends on the night.”  _ Depends on how he feels! _ “Sometimes I get a full eight, but sometimes I only get four or five.”

“Other than tired, how do you feel about being here?” ONCE AGAIN: SICK!! “Like, do you feel like you have everything under control? Or do you feel overwhelmed?” 

Eddie had nothing in his head but NUMBERS and CRITIQUES, when did he NOT feel overwhelmed?? 

“I don’t…” Eddie thought he should give Mr. Rogan a shot. “I don’t know, school is really hard for me.”

God, Eddie  _ WANTED  _ to give him a try. He  _ NEEDED  _ to tell SOMEONE literally  _ ANYTHING  _ racing through his head. 

“How so?”  _ Thank you!!! _

“It’s just, ugh, this sounds stupid” he  _ WAS  _ stupid! “But I don’t really know what I want to be when I grow up” SKINNY “like, I don’t have many goals, so, I don’t know… I just feel unmotivated to do anything.” 

“Anything?” Mr. Rogan was writing something down and Eddie wished he saved this all for Sharon because he LIKED HER! He  _ HATED  _ Mr. Rogan. 

“Yeah,” Eddie used one of his feet to adjust his sock on his other leg and he liked the way his socks were too big for his ankles. “Like at school and stuff. I’m not like, uh, it’s not like I don’t want to get up in the morning.” He scratched his wrists and just ON INSTINCT he wrapped his hand around his wrist to see how much space was there between and-

“Why do you do that?” Mr. Rogan looked at Eddie like he had THREE HEADS!! Eddie shrugged and he wrung his hands and HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO RESPOND TO  _ THAT???! _

“What?”

Mr. Rogan pointed at Eddie with his pencil like he was a FUCKING ANIMAL!! Eddie felt DISGUSTING and suddenly he felt fucking  _ GUILTY  _ for doing something  _ HE ALWAYS DID! _

This is why Eddie HATED _ people like Mr. Rogan! _ They made Eddie feel like he was  _ SICK _ ! And he knew it was because of  _ it _ !!! He knew this was  _ all it’s fault _ but it wasn’t the issue! THEY were the ones that were trying to control him!! They were all like his fucking MOTHER!! 

_ Eddie _ , why do you do that? Eddie,  _ EDDIE _ , doesn’t that feel  _ terrible _ ? We’re all so worried about you, are you  _ OKAY????  _ Eddie was SHAKING now, he was done being treated like a  _ MENTAL PATIENT! _ HE JUST WANTED TO BE LEFT ALONE!!  _ PEOPLE NEVER FUCKING ASKED HIM WHAT HE WANTED! IT WAS ALWAYS _

“Eddie?”

“ _ What _ ?” Eddie didn’t even try to sound polite, he wasn’t asking to be interrogated, he just wanted to turn in a fucking form, one fucking athletic pass so he could FINALLY do the ONE THING HE HAD BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO ALL YEAR!

“Alright.” Mr. Rogan stood up from his chair. “I don’t think you want to talk now” HOW WAS THIS EDDIES FAULT?! “but, I can get this athletic form turned in right away. You should be all good to go for their practice after school.”

Eddie fell back into his chair and realized he was practically standing out of it and he wasn’t even yelling he was just tight everywhere and he just needed to get out.

“Thank you so much.” Eddie’s cheeks felt hot and he stood up and swayed a little bit under the weight of his backpack. He looked down at his legs and pressed them as far as he could and felt the frustration practically FALL off of him when he felt that ache in his knees and he KNEW they were bruised. 

Eddie’s knees knocked together all the time because his THIGHS DIDN’T TOUCH!!

Eddie turned to the door but stopped and turned around.   
_Eddie, you have to start advocating for yourself and maybe it will-_

“I’m, uh… I’m sorry about all of that.” Eddie  _ HATED  _ this. 

“What do you mean?”

“Like,” Did Eddie not just TOTALLY freak out on him?? “I dunno, I feel like I freaked out a little bit,”

Mr. Rogan put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and he resisted every urge to shake it off, and he didn’t like that Mr. Rogan kept talking to him like he was his _ fucking son- _

“Don’t even worry about it, kid.”  _ WHAT THE FUCK?!  _ “I totally get it. You’re having a rough day, happens to the best of us.” 

“I guess it does.”

Like you’d fucking understand,  _ asshole _ . 

_______

 

_ FUCK MR. ROGAN! _

FUCK HIM FOR PUTTING THAT FUCKING FORM THROUGH!

EDDIE WAS NERVOUS _ ALL DAY AND IT WAS HIS FAULT!!!!! _

Cross country was a fucking MISTAKE!! Shit like this made Eddie realize that maybe people were right!! He was just some stupid little  _ FAG  _ and he couldn’t do ANYTHING FOR  _ SHIT _ !!

He rubbed his eyes and Jesus  _ FUCKING _ Christ he was  _ CRYING  _ over all this shit!!! No wonder he couldn’t get under ninety! HE COULDN’T RUN  _ ONE FUCKING MILE WITHOUT PASSING OUT!!! _

He shoved all of his clothes into his backpack and GAVE UP trying not to cry. No one else was in the locker room anyways because they were all AT  _ CROSS COUNTRY _ PRACTICE!!!

Eddie really thought he could do it. He thought he could do it and he LOOKED THE COACH IN THE FACE  _ AND TOLD HIM HE COULD! _

Are you  _ SURE  _ you can do this?? We’ve been  _ training _ , Eddie, right?  _ Are you SURE YOU CAN DO THIS? _ You have to keep up with these  _ ATHLETES _ , Eddie, and they’ve been training  _ ALL SUMMER FOR THIS!!  _ Are you  _ SURE YOU CAN KEEP UP WITH THEM?!?! _

It was ninety five degrees outside, no wonder Eddie PASSED OUT!! 

He was DONE with all this shit! He was DONE GOING OUT OF HIS WAY TO CONVINCE OTHER PEOPLE HE WAS OKAY!!!!  _ HE  _ knew he was okay and that’s ALL THAT MATTERED!!!! He was done.

_ D-O-N-E, _ DONE. 

Eddie was fucking  _ DISGUSTED  _ with himself, he was disgusted by the locker room, he was disgusted by the coach, he was disgusted by  _ HIMSELF and the coach was RIGHT  _ and he was disgusted by the shitty HANDLE TO THE LOCKER ROOM DOOR AND HIS HAND FELT  _ DISGUSTING  _ AND

“Eddie?” 

“What the hell do you want?!” Eddie was crying now and he started shaking realizing he probably looked like his MOTHER and he probably looked FAT BECAUSE NEWS FLASH! HE WAS AND

Richie was standing behind him. 

Eddie started laughing. This is  _ REALLY  _ what he needed today!! 

“I swear to God, if you make any fucking jokes or say anything about me crying I will never go back to that fucking therapy again.” Eddie KNEW he didn’t look intimidating but he could TRY!!! If his  _ MOTHER  _ could scare him, he figured he could try and scare  _ RICHIE!!! _

“That was the last thing I was thinking about, babe.” Richie looked FUCKING STUPID!!! Eddie HATED his clothes, he HATED his Thrasher shirt, and he realized he was probably just being angry with  _ everyone  _ so he was gonna be an asshole. His hair made it  _ REALLY FUCKING EASY _ to hate him in that moment. 

“Don’t call me babe. It’s weird, and God forgive me for thinking that you’d make a joke right now.” Eddie turned on his heel and started walking away. He hadn’t even texted his mom yet and he would have to  _ CALL HER _ soon and hear her  _ DISGUSTING VOICE _ and Eddie hated the way that he could  _ hear  _ how  _ OBESE  _ she was and Eddie wondered if he-

Richie wasn’t following him. 

Eddie stopped. 

_ WHY WAS HE STOPPING??? _

“Do you want me to follow you or something?” Richie sounded like he was LAUGHING. “I will if you want me to, but I’m not gonna if you want to be left alone.”

Eddie wanted to be mad but that was the first time someone’s asked him that. He felt so EMO but he was being given a  _ choice _ . His mom took his  _ bedroom door off _ , for Christ’s sake, Eddie had never been given a fucking  _ choice _ to be left alone.

“Sure,” Eddie started walking again. He didn’t have much longer before he would have to turn the corner and Eddie really didn’t like the way he slowed down. 

“Sure what?”

“Sure, follow me, whatever.” Eddie waited until he heard Richie’s footsteps behind him to start walking again.

“Did you know we went to the same school?” 

Eddie actually didn’t. Richie was a senior, and he was a junior, and Eddie had NEVER seen him before. Eddie didn’t know  _ HOW  _ he had never seen him, it wasn’t like he was fucking hard to miss. 

“Not until I saw you this morning.” Eddie pulled his sleeves over his wrists and wiped at his eyes and he HATED how sweaty he was and he hadn’t sweat like that in months, he was never hot, he was always  _ COLD!!  _ Eddie forgot how awful it felt to be hot and it felt just as restricting as calories and  _ FUCK IT!!! _ Eddie would deal with being hot every day if it meant he could sweat out as many calories as he was sweating our right now. 

“Beverly said you two are in class together. I didn’t know I went to school with either of you before today. Isn’t that kinda weird?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie felt bad, but he needed Richie to think he didn’t want to talk to him. Why? Eddie had no clue. “I’m sorry I’m being a bitch.” Why was he  _ APOLOGIZING?! _ He was supposed to be MAD!!!

“Nah, don’t apologize.” Richie was really tall. “I get it. I’m bipolar, that’s the story of my life. Except I don’t usually apologize.” 

_ HAH!  _

Richie would be KIDDING HIMSELF if he thought Eddie was going to share ANYTHING with him!

“I’m sorry,”  _ That’s the best he could do? _

“Don’t be sorry.” Eddie didn’t like the way he felt relieved when Richie said that, and Eddie really didn’t like that he wasn’t absolutely  _ appalled  _ by everything he was saying. 

“You act differently than you do in therapy.” It wasn’t rude-  _ Eddie didn’t think at least _ \- it was just an observation. 

“Hm, I haven’t really noticed.” Eddie looked at Richie’s arms, but he couldn’t get a good glance at the size of his wrists. But at least from what he could tell, it made him sick. Eddie saw how much Richie was eating when they were all at lunch yet his arms still looked as SKINNY AS EDDIE’S. Or maybe smaller. Jesus Christ, Eddie had to get out of this fucking school or-

“I think I’m good at reading people.” 

Eddie snapped out of his trance and looked up at Richie’s face. 

“Are you psychic or something?” 

Richie threw his head back as he laughed and Eddie was drawn to look at his hair. He thought it was annoying and wished Richie would brush it but a part of him wondered how it would feel if Eddie touched it. 

_ FUCK THAT _ . 

“No, I’m not psychic. Wish I was, that’d be cool as hell. I’m pretty sure my aunt was psychic, because she always told my mom to leave my dad, but not like, not when he was a dick, but like when they were teenagers. Like, she would-”

“Excuse me?” Eddie giggled. “I’m all for sharing, but let’s take it one thought at a time.” Eddie liked Richie more when they weren’t at therapy. 

“You’re right. Okay, so, cute laugh by the way, I think”  _ AHHHHHHHHHH _ “I’m good at reading people, like, I know when it’s a good time or a bad time to make a joke.” 

“What if I’m in the mood to hear a joke now?” Eddie wanted Richie to make him laugh again because he wanted Richie to SAY  _ THAT  _ AGAIN!!!!

Richie blew air out of his mouth in a way that made a buzzing sound with his lips.

“Well, shit, it doesn’t work that way, Eddie Spaghetti.” WHAT THE HELL WAS THIS???

Eddie laughed outright at that, not even forcing it to get a compliment out of him, but because he was so taken aback by the name.

“ _ Excuse me? _ ”

“What?” 

“Eddie Spaghetti? What the hell is that nickname?” 

“I dunno, it sounds cute. Y’know, like it rhymes and shit.”  _ Eddie’s mom’s voice just kept getting LOUDER. _ “But, no, it doesn’t work like that. My humor isn’t prompted, it’s… it’s a natural response. Like, if I get uncomfortable, I’ll make a joke. Or I’ll just say something weird.”

“Like Eddie Spaghetti?” Oh God, if Eddie made Richie nervous he wouldn’t know what to do with himself-  _ Eddie, shut the hell up! It’s weird, I don’t understand why you’d actually believe what they’re saying- _

“Yeah,” Richie kicked at a scrap piece of paper on the ground. “I totally understand if you don’t want to”  _ Eddie would literally do anything he asked in that moment  _ “but, uh, were you okay back there?”

JESUS, Eddie almost forgot that entire situation. He wanted to say it was Richie, but Eddie tended to get really angry about things and let it consume him and make bad decisions, but then forget about it IMMEDIATELY. He did want it to be Richie’s fault. For some reason, that was  _ wrong and disgusting _ , but in that moment he just wanted to tell Richie what happened. 

“I… I don’t really know where to start. Uh, I’ll make it short, uh, my therapist”  _ Not Sharon _ “Uh, not Sharon, wanted me to get involved at school. She thought that it would help me, like, get out of my own head? I think, but-”

“What are you in your own head about?” 

RICHIE, THAT WAS A CAN OF WORMS YOU  _ DO NOT _ WANT TO OPEN. 

“W-What?”

“Why doesn’t she want you to get bored?” Sounds like Richie has been given the same talk as Eddie.

“I dunno, like, school… school mostly, and-”

“Eddie”  _ Stop interrupting him _ “You don’t have to tell me, but I want you to know that I’ve been a pathological liar my entire life. I know it’s not school. But finish the story, I just wanna know what was up earlier.” 

Eddie didn’t like that. He didn’t think Richie expected Eddie to tell him anything, but there was a part of him that wanted to scream because  _ OF COURSE HE WANTED EDDIE TO TELL HIM SOMETHING!!! _

“Uh… I was going to try and join cross country,”  _ He shouldn’t tell him this.  _ “But the coach didn’t really want me to join because the season already started,” What was  _ the harm in telling him, really, though??? _ “And I told him that I could do an eight minute mile”  _ Wasn’t fucking true ANYMORE AT LEAST  _ “And he told me to go out so he could see what I could do, and I literally passed out. Like, like before I even completed a full lap, I fucking passed out.” 

Richie whistled. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s…”  _ It really wasn’t okay _ “It’s okay. I’m overdramatic.” 

“Hey,” Richie stopped walking and turned to Eddie. He put a hand on his shoulder and Eddie really couldn’t help but notice how big his hand was and-  _ SHUT THE FUCK UP _ “Don’t apologize for being upset. I get it, you probably have a lot going on right now,”  _ YOU DON’T KNOW THE HALF OF IT _ “And you shouldn’t feel like what affects you is stupid.” 

Eddie noticed that Richie’s eyes were uneven. By a lot. For some reason that didn’t affect how much Eddie liked his eyes. He sounded like he was fucking  _ gay  _ and he KNEW it and  _ JESUS CHRIST was that really where his mind was going- _

“You sound like Sharon.” 

Richie smiled. His teeth were crooked too. 

“Did that make you feel better?”

“Yeah,”

“I’m glad.” Richie reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. Eddie snapped back to where he was- school- and looked around. They were all the way by the parking lot. “Look, I’d love to keep talking, but I gotta get going. But if you need a ride, I’d love to take you home.” He winked. 

GOD what Eddie wouldn’t do to let Richie drive him home. But he didn’t even want to THINK about what his MOTHER WOULD SAY if she looked and saw  _ RICHIE DRIVING EDDIE HOME!!! _

“I, uh, my mom is already coming to pick me up.” Eddie shifted on his feet. “Thank you, though.” 

“Yeah, anytime, just let me know.” Richie grinned at Eddie and began walking towards the doors to the parking lot. He stopped and turned around at the door, though. “I only give people stupid nicknames when I think they’re cute, by the way.” And then he swung the door open and left.

Eddie didn’t know how he would respond to that anyway. 

He watched Richie walk away from the school, his heart  _ RACING _ . 

He didn’t even realize it until he picked up his phone to call his mother that he was  _ smiling _ . 

Eddie Kaspbrak was really  _ SMILING! _

His thumb hovered over the phone icon for a moment before he slipped his phone back into his pocket. He could walk home.

Eddie actually felt HAPPY and he knew it was STUPID and GROSS but he genuienly COULDNT CARE LESS!!

He was going to walk home, burn about a hundred and sixty calories, avoid hearing his fat fucker of a mom scream at him for staying after school, and think about Richie the  _ whole way _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _chapter summary_ : eddie turns in an athletic form to his counselor and ends up being asked about his mental health at school. when at cross country after school, eddie passes out while "trying out" for the coach and leaves incredibly upset. while he is walking out of the locker room, richie stops him and they talk about why eddie was upset and richie asks what eddie is in his own head about---- and richie calls eddie cute.  
> -  
> thank you so much for reading! for all of you who are keeping up with this THANK YOU and trust me, im writing as much as i can!! im trying to keep up with schoolwork as well as updating this, so just bear with me! i truly appreciate every comment i get on this fic and it really motivates me to continue going, and thank you so much to all of you who have given me such positive and heartwarming feedback on this. thank you again, and be safe <3


	9. Chapter 9.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: none, references to obsessive compulsive disorder, references to anxiety, lightly implied abuse

“I know you were all instructed last week to consciously advocate for yourself in some way.” 

Sharon’s hair was in a ponytail and Stan took note of how nicely she had done it. He didn't like the way that the girls at his school wore their hair messy because he hated when his hair fell in his face, so he couldn't imagine it was comfortable for them, either. “I’d like today to be dedicated to you all sharing your experiences. Then we’ll finish up with what I’d like you all to work on for next week.”

She looked around the circle, possibly for a response, but she just scribbled something down on her clipboard before looking back up to say, “Does anyone want to start?”

Beverly raised her hand. 

“Our other therapist mentioned this, but he didn't actually tell us what he wanted us to do, so… I dunno, I  _ might  _ have advocated for myself but I'm not really sure what you want us to say.” Her words alone could have been civil, but her tone was biting. Beverly liked to challenge Sharon. It made Stan uncomfortable. 

Sharon pursed her lips. “Who's your therapist?” 

Beverly shrugged. “Hell if I know. He was creepy.” Richie giggled at this. Stan watched the rest of the group and noticed that Richie and Beverly made most of them uncomfortable. 

He didn't know if it was the best idea to put people like Richie and Beverly with people like Bill and himself. He assumed it would have something to do with ‘immersion’, like if you wanted to learn how to deal with stressful situations calmly, you had to learn how to deal with stressful people calmly. 

“We have Dr. Bennett.” Mike spoke up and Stan forgot how refreshing it was to hear someone speak other than Richie or Beverly.

“Thank you, Mike.” Sharon looked back at Beverly. Sharon didn't wear any makeup which made Stan happy because it was easier to focus on what she said when he wasn't focusing on the mascara flaking off around her eyes. “Beverly, we just wanted all of you to put your needs above others, and to consciously do so. We wanted you to make a decision or do something that not only was respectful to others,” Her eyes darted to Richie. “While also being beneficial for yourself. A decision that improved your own wellbeing that wasn't driven by selfishness or immediate gratification.”

She looked on either side of her, at Richie and then Stan, and put both of her hands square on her crossed knee. 

“Which one of you wants to start?” 

Judging by the way that Richie slunk farther into his chair, Stan took a lucky guess and assumed he would be starting this conversation. 

“I, uh, I asked my teacher if I could do a project by myself.” Stan shrugged. He saw Richie’s eyebrows raise so he started talking again before he could make a remark. “It sounds really lame, but I always end up being a jerk when I work in a group because I like everyone to do it my way or I freak out on them. And I feel like I'll get a better grade by myself anyways.”

Sharon nodded, writing something down. Stan grinned to himself as he noted she was left handed. Stan taught himself how to write with his left hand when he was six and he panicked one day when he got a paper cut on his right hand. Ever since then, left was just better than right. 

“Now, Stan.” Her tone was condescending.  _ Shoot _ . He said something wrong, apparently. “I understand why you think you'd be benefiting your group and yourself by making this adjustment. However, when you're older and you have a job, won't that job require you to work with other people?”

Stan wanted to roll his eyes. He didn't, but he really wanted to. 

“Yeah, it will.”

“Do you understand where I'm going with this?” 

Stan crossed and uncrossed his ankles and didn’t respond

“I’ll admit, maybe a group project that’s for a grade isn’t the best time to work on involving yourself, but you have to do it eventually.” Sharon looked at Stan, but she gestured to the whole group with her hands as she spoke. “You have to learn how to work with other people, people who don’t think the same way as you or respond to challenges the same way as you. Let me show you all an example.” 

Sharon stood up and walked to the center of the circle the group they were all sitting in. 

“Everyone stand up and come circle up.”

Stan looked around at everyone else, hoping they were all just as unsure as he was. Stan wasn’t nervous, so to say, but he definitely really didn’t like that they were all being asked to get up and do something because of something he said. 

“Come on, I don’t bite.” 

For some reason Stan expected Richie to say something. He was surprised he wasn’t waiting with a response on the tip of his tongue whenever someone else said anything. 

They all stood up, though, and walked to the center of all of their chairs, forming a circle like Sharon had told them to. It wasn’t a perfect circle, but Stan figured the last thing he should do in that moment was try and make it so. 

“Alright, now everyone grab hands with someone, but it cannot be the person standing next to you.” 

Stan’s eyes were immediately drawn to Bill’s, who was chuckling nervously. Stan liked the way it sounded, and he realized that in comparison to the rest of the group, Stan had hardly heard him talk at all. Bill’s hand was really sweaty, but Stan didn’t think it was too big of a deal. Usually he would have been bothered by it, but he wasn't that time. He still had one free hand, and he looked over to Eddie, who was bright red. Stan took his hand and his stomach turned a little when he felt his bones and pulse through his skin. 

He followed Eddie’s other hand to Richie, who was running his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. He looked just as scared as he felt. 

Richie looked up and made eye contact with Stan, and mouthed, “ _ Jesus Christ _ ,”

Stan nodded. 

“Now we’re faced with a dilemma.” Sharon started talking again once everyone was settled. Stan shifted uncomfortably as Bill’s hand got sweatier and sweatier and Eddie’s hand started to shake. “Now what I want you all to do, is to think of a way to unravel yourselves into a circle again without dropping each other’s hands.” 

Richie scoffed. “Are you teaching us some kind of emotional kama sutra?”

“No, Richie,” Sharon rolled her eyes. “I’m impressed you know what that means, but no, that’s not it.” Sharon looked at Stan. “Stan, how would you handle this situation?”

Shoot, Stan didn’t know. This looked like an absolute mess. 

“Uh…” He looked around the circle. He was uncomfortable with how close everyone was standing. Everyone else looked like they felt the same way. “I guess I would try and work our way from the top down?” He heard either Beverly or Richie giggle out ‘ _ that’s what she said,’ _ but he ignored it. Everyone was getting too close to him and staring at the jumbled mess of arms and hands in front of him made him nauseous. “Like, I guess if we just kept unfolding ourselves it might work? I don’t know, it probably wouldn’t-”

“No, Stanley.” Stan didn’t particularly like being called Stanley, but he didn’t hate it either. “Don’t discredit your ideas before you know if they work or not. Now, Richie,” Beverly and Richie were still giggling about something, but they stopped when Sharon addressed him. “How would you go about your dilemma?” 

“Is it really  _ our  _ dilemma if you forced us into it in the first place?” Richie grinned at Sharon and Stan had a vivid memory of hiding behind his couch while watching Alice in Wonderland because the Cheshire Cat scared him. Richie was to fifteen year old Stan the same as what the Cheshire Cat was to five year old Stan. 

“Sure it is.” Sharon shrugged. “Every one of you is here because you’ve been thrown into a situation at some point in your life that challenged you, and none of you asked to be put in those situations. Somebody else decided for you. If you went about life only handling the dilemmas that you put  _ yourself  _ into, you’d hardly solve anything. Why? Because you’d either be able to handle them, or you wouldn’t take the blame for them.” Richie, do you think you’re here because you can handle the dilemmas you face?”

The room was silent. 

Stan’s skin crawled as he listened to everyone else’s breathing. In Sharon’s defense, she wasn’t  _ wrong _ . He figured G-d was challenging him with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, but that just made him angry. He had gone into the Mikveh, he had read the Torah, he had done everything right. He didn’t deserve this. 

He figured no one else deserved trauma they went through either. 

Bill’s hand felt heavy in his and Stan’s head started to pound. He didn’t deserve it.

Richie looked upset. He looked like he was trying to come up with a comeback, and his mouth was twitching. But it appeared like he knew this wasn’t the time for him to say anything funny.

“Do you?” Sharon pressed.

“No,” Richie mumbled. He mumbled it so softly that Stan wouldn’t have picked it up if he hadn’t been watching him like an owl. 

“You have to learn how to handle the things they forced you to take on, Richie.” Sharon whispered this to him. If the room hadn’t been silent enough for Stan to hear his own heartbeat in his ears, he may have not even heard her. 

“You want me to solve the dilemma?” Richie’s cheeks were getting redder by the second. “Fine.” He dramatically dropped Eddie and Beverly’s hands and threw his in the air. “Everyone drop each other’s hands. We solved the fuckin’ dilemma.” 

Everyone dropped their hands. Stan didn’t like that they responded to Richie quicker than they responded to Sharon, even though Sharon was the adult, but he guessed that was the whole thing. It was her job to keep them all in check. She couldn’t get upset with anyone, nor could she really do anything when someone got upset with her. 

And Richie was a  _ bomb _ . It happened at lunch and now it had happened in a meeting. Everything was a joke until it  _ wasn’t  _ anymore. Stan wondered if he had outbursts and he wondered if that’s how he ended up in therapy. 

Richie threw himself into his chair and crossed his arms, one of his legs bouncing violently up and down. He just looked angry now. 

Sharon took a deep breath and walked over to sit down in her chair. The rest of them followed, but Stan was scared to sit down. He followed eventually simply out of fear that being the only one standing would make himself an easy target. 

Stan wanted to say Richie had exploded, that Sharon had pulled the pin and ran, but he knew he couldn’t. He knew that wasn’t the worst Richie could do. 

“Richie,” Sharon’s tone was similar to that of Stan’s mom when she yelled at him for washing his hands more than once. “Richie-”

“What the hell do you want me to say?!” He straightened up to the edge of his seat. He looked about on the verge of tears, and Stan felt bad. Stan was someone who cried in response to anything intense, but he wondered if Richie only cried when he was angry. That was the worst kind of crying. “I never fucking disagreed with you! I have no clue what else you want from me! You already know everything that happened, why are you looking at me like I  _ owe _ you more?”

Bill laughed uncomfortably. 

“ _Shut the fuck up_ , you would’ve needed a full two minutes to get that out, mushmouth.”  
Bill’s face got super red and he stared at his hands folded in his lap. Richie kept looking at Sharon when he was talking to Bill. He would say a word to Bill but his eyes darted back and forth to Sharon. Like he was trying to gauge her reaction the entire time, but was finding nothing. 

Sharon just sat there tapping her foot rhythmically on the ground. 

“Richie, would you like to go cool off in the hallway for a few minutes?”

“I don’t know! Do you want me to fucking leave? It seems like-”

“Richie, do you want to go into the hallway?” 

He looked almost startled for a moment as he stared at Sharon with an incredulous look on his face. After a few seconds, though, he near leapt off his chair, which made a loud scraping noise on the tile floor. He jumped off like a tiger, and once again, Stan found himself associating the scary things Richie did with the scary things he saw cats do as a little kid. Richie jumped off his chair and hurried out of the room with the same force as a tiger Stan had watched leap onto a duck in the water at the zoo. 

Stan never liked cats. 

Sharon didn't start talking again until the doors to the room stopped swinging. Stan didn't even notice he was shaking until then. 

“Do any of you want to say anything about what just happened?” Sharon looked completely calm, contrasting every confused and startled look from every other person in the room. “I understand that it's sometimes hard to watch things like that happen, as it's hard to be scared or intimidated by one of your peers.” 

Stan wanted to retaliate and reassure himself and the rest of the group that he may have been annoyed by Richie, but he definitely didn't think he could hurt them at all. He also wanted to tell Sharon he didn't like that she talked about them like they weren't real people. Like they were something to analyze. But he couldn't. He wouldn't talk back to Sharon, and he wouldn't lie. 

Stan was scared of Richie. 

“Is it really okay for him to be in a group with us?” Mike asked. Even though Stan had just compared Richie to the sources of his ailurophobia, he found it weird that they were talking about him like he was some psychopath. Stan agreed, nonetheless, but it was still weird. 

“Why wouldn’t it be okay for him to be here?” 

Mike scoffed. “Did we not just see the same thing? He seems crazy. You asked him one thing and he flipped out- like, is it safe for us to be in a group like this with someone like him?”

“Michael,” Sharon liked using their full names. “First off, let’s not address Richie like he’s a different breed than us. ‘Someone like him’? He’s someone like you. And before I let this conversation continue, I urge you all to be conscious of whether or not you’re judging Richie on his behavior or his  _ character _ . You can question the things he does and why he does them, but-”

“He has a point, though.” 

Sharon didn’t even attempt to hide her surprise upon hearing Beverly speak up.

“I mean, I think out of all of us here I hate him the least, but-”

“Beverly, watch yourself.”

“But am I wrong? I’m really trying to give him the benefit of the doubt here, but Mike’s really just saying what we’re all thinking. You told him something that, I dunno, seems like a  _ pretty  _ normal therapist thing to say, and the man totally lost his shit!”

Stan nodded along with the rest of the group. He glanced at the clock. Ten fifty-five. A good number. His anxiety only subsided a little bit.

“I understand where you’re both coming from. I really do.  _ However _ ,” Sharon set the clipboard against the leg of her chair. She leaned forward against her knee. “Please remember that Richie is in no different situation than you guys. He’s been hurt, just like all of you, in some way or another. But if I had said the same thing to any of you, how would you have reacted differently?” 

Sharon looked expectantly at the group. When nobody made eye contact with her, she sighed. “Alright, Bill.” 

Bill’s head snapped up and his eyes darted widley around. Stan assumed it was because Bill had never really been the center of attention in their group. 

“If I had told you something that challenged you, like something I told Richie, something that targeted a weakness of yours, how would you have responded?”

Bill’s bottom lip trembled for a second, and Stan prayed that he wouldn’t start crying, but Stan soon realized Bill was actually just trying to say something. He hadn’t spoken in so long Stan had actually forgotten about his stutter.

Bill closed his eyes and took a deep breath before trying again. “I-I-I wouldn’t h-have said a-anyth-thing else.” 

Sharon pursed her lips. “Let’s say someone made you incredibly upset, perhaps, for the sake of example,  _ I  _ made you incredibly upset. How would you have reacted differently from Richie?”

“I-I… I d-don’t know. I f-f-feel like I wou-wouldn’t h-have done anything he d-d-did.” He wrung his hands together in his lap.

“Why do you think that is?”

“I d-d-don’t know!” Bill’s face was bright red and he had begun fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. “I kn-know b-b-better than to act like that w-when s-s-s-someo-one talks to me!”

“Exactly.” Sharon pulled out her clipboard and scribbled a few things down. Stan wanted to take it from her to read everything she had written. “You know that isn’t an appropriate way to handle anxiety and stress. Some of you have grown up in environments where you have been able to resolve conflict calmly, while some of you have not. If someone grows up in a household where screaming and violence is always the way conflict is resolved and anxiety is handled, how do you think they will deal with those things when they're older?”

The room remained silent, but Stan assumed everyone had the same answer.

“I still don’t know why it’s…” Beverly furrowed her eyebrows. “Safe? I guess? For Richie to be in a class with us.” 

“If Richie wanted to hurt one of you, or if Richie wanted to hurt me, he would have done so. Instead, he was put in an uncomfortable situation, and instead of facing it and coping with the anxiety he felt, he ran away from it. It’s my job to teach him to face these issues, it’s my job to help all of you face these anxieties, but it’s also my job to protect you guys. That’s why I asked Richie to leave. It wouldn’t have been fair for me to subject all of you to whatever Richie may have said, and it also wouldn’t have been fair for me to have forced Richie to tell you all something he wasn’t ready to. If he was ready, he would have responded better to me. 

But the  _ last  _ thing I’m going to do is keep Richie away from this group. When he left the room? Probably the last time I will let that happen. Because he needs to learn, and this goes for all of you, that you can’t run away from the things that make you uncomfortable. If Richie didn’t have to come to these meetings, he would win. He wouldn’t be challenged and it would be one less thing he had to take responsibility for. If I let him win, then I’ve ultimately failed him.” 

Sharon stood up and began walking towards the doors, pushing one of them open. She stepped outside and Stan could hear her begin to talk to who he knew was Richie. Almost two minutes passed (Stan was watching the clock the whole time) before Sharon came back into the room. Richie followed her.

All of the anger on his face from before was absent, and it seemed to be replaced with embarrassment. Or something else, but Stan couldn’t put his finger on it. His eyes were red. 

Once they both sat down, Sharon just picked her clipboard back up and said, “Alright, who wants to go next?” 

Like nothing happened. 

“Uh…” Eddie let out a breathy laugh. “Are we just gonna… Are we just gonna move on?” His eyes darted around nervously around the circle, and Stan noted how he raised his eyebrows at Richie himself. He must have been feeling pretty brave that day. 

“Well, what more do you have to say?” 

Eddie gaped at her, and then sank back into his chair and crossed his ankles. Stan saw that his socks didn’t fit quite right around his ankles. 

“If anyone wants to say anything about what we just discussed, by all means, let me know and we can talk it through. If not, I think we should continue.” Sharon wrote something down on her clipboard. “Mike? You’re up.” 

Mike opened his mouth, and then closed it. 

The air in the room was different. All of the tension radiated from Richie. Stan felt bad that he had flipped out, and Stan then felt like he had intruded on something between him and Sharon, like he had witnessed something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Jesus  _ Christ _ ,” Richie threw his head back and groaned, breaking the silence in the room. “I threw out all the letters my dad wrote me, because every time I read them I got mad.” He threw his hands in the air, like he was surrendering.

Stan saw a smile on Sharon’s face as she nodded at him.

“Good for you, Richie. I’m proud of you.”

The tension seemed to diffuse as Richie’s face got red, and Bill sat up expectantly. It really was like nothing had happened. They were just going to continue on with their discussion. 

Stan suddenly desperately wanted to know what Sharon had told Richie outside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!!  
> it was surprisingly difficult to write from stans pov again after switching the styles every chapter. its like i forgot how to write normal lol. anyways, im working on something new, and im really excited about it! i dont think itll be done for a while, but im really excited to keep working on it :)  
> thank you again for reading and stay safe <3


	10. chapter ten!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: references to abuse, very subtle references to body image issues  
> this chapter isnt too deep, its mostly fluff compared to the previous chapters

richie had thrown away all of the pictures he had of his mom because he wanted to punch them whenever he saw them. he never hit his mom when she was around but he figured if he had she wouldn’t have punched back. richie was mad at his dad because of fucking course he was, but he was mad at his mom for reasons he didnt really know how to explain. obviously he was hurt when his mom left and didnt take richie, but his heart just fucking broke when she called four weeks later from her boyfriends house.

he ignored most calls from his mom, but he picked up when he got home from therapy because he honestly had nothing better to do.

_ “youre in therapy now?”  _ his moms voice sounded worried. she must have gotten the first bill in the mail. she probably thought richie was going to kill himself soon because he actually answered. maybe he was going to. not now.

“yeah.”

_ “is it helping?”  _

“dont think so.” 

richie hung up not long after and cried for a long time. 

he liked to think he was getting better. he didnt dread going to school anymore, he was always excited to see beverly and eddie, but he was still just as sad as he used to be.

richie lived in his dad and his moms house. from a legal standpoint, it was his moms house now that her husband was in jail, and she had completed the down payment about a week into his sixteen year sentence. from richies standpoint, his mom was relieved to have her husband in jail so she didnt have to worry that shed be tried for neglect if the bastard fucking killed richie himself. now that he was gone, she payed off the house so she wouldnt have to think about richie ever again. 

she had come around at the end of july and august to pick up the bills and to make sure richie was still alive, and then she would leave. there was nothing on paper to signify that richie lived alone.  

richie didnt like thinking about his parents. 

he could always look on the bright side of things. he had an oc every single day and didnt have to worry about cleaning up after the people who came over. 

beverly called him on sunday at around nine pm. richie had just woken up from a sixteen hour power-nap an hour earlier. 

_ “did you know that eddies mom is like four-thousand pounds?” _

richie opened his window.

“havent seen her. dont have any interest in meeting that bitch.”

he walked over to his desk, picked up the joint he had rolled that morning, and then set it down again. it was too hot to be smoking. it was september, it should have been cold already. 

_ “for real. i was walking to my aunts car and eddies mom just happened to be parked right next to her, and then when i was in the car telling my aunt how therapy went, i could literally hear her fucking yelling at him in her car. like, he got in the car and sat down and she just fucking went off at him! i wanted to cry just hearing it, the poor kid was getting obliterated by jabba the goddamn hut.”  _

“shit,” richie put his phone on speaker and layed down on the ground. his bed was too hot. “did you hear what it was about?”

_ “no! at first i thought that maybe she was a weirdo about phones and shit? like maybe she was pissed that eddie gave his snap to me, i dunno, but-” _

“you got his snap?” richie sat up. immediately, he punched himself in the leg. fuck, fuck, that was really smooth- why the hell did he even care??

_ “uh, yeah? thats what i just said.”  _ beverly laughed.  _ “ill send it to you, gimme a second.”  _

richie didnt argue. his stomach turned a little when he saw the notification from beverly, but he figured he wouldnt open it until they were off the phone.

“sorry, sorry, i interrupted you.” fuck it. richie reached over and grabbed the joint off the desk. 

_ “youre ok, dude. anyways,”  _ the flick of a lighter on the other end made richie feel a little less alone.  _ “yeah, i thought it was something about the phone, but eddie told me she didnt have a problem with it because she didnt even know what snapchat was. so i was snooping, yknow, as you do, and he said it was because he didnt clean his room.” _

richie shook out his lighter a couple times because the tip wasnt catching correctly, silently cursing himself for rolling all of the weed he had super messy. 

“sounds like b.s. to me. but i dunno, some parents get super uptight about that shit. my dad did.”

_ “richie, wasnt your dad uptight about everything, though?” _

the joint finally caught and richie took a deep inhale of it.

“touche, i guess.”

_ “all i wanted to say is that she seemed like an asshole. are you okay from yesterday?” _

richie took off his glasses and set them on the floor next to him, laying down on the wood flooring of his room that always stayed cold no matter what time of the year it was.

“my temper tantrum?” richies cheeks got red just thinking about the fact that beverly and eddie probably talked about how stupid it was that he freaked out like how he did and they were probably fucking scared he was gonna shoot up the school and JESUS CHRIST!! he didnt know why he wanted them to fucking  _ like  _ him so much. 

_ “it wasnt a temper tantrum, but i guess if thats what you wanna call it, then sure. i just wanted to know if you were okay.” _

richie groaned. 

“yeah, im fine. it just hit close to home, yknow? and like i know thats probably her job to say things like that to, like, i dunno, challenge us? i guess? but, yeah, i dunno why it hit me so hard.” 

_ “i get it. were you okay when you got home?”  _ no one had asked richie that before.

“yeah, i just invited some people over and we all just hung out and smoked a bunch, so it was okay.” he left out the part about how he got home and cried on the kitchen floor for an hour. 

_ “look, rich,”  _ weird nickname.  _ “i get it, trust me, but jesus, you really gotta lay off the weed for a while. i thought you were more of a cigarette guy, anyways. i mean, you show up to school high half of the time. that makes you seem like an asshole.” _

richie didnt let her in on the fact that he was smoking as she spoke.

“i smoke cigarettes when i dont have enough money for weed, bev. you just happened to meet me during a dry spell.” richie knew he had a problem. he smoked every single day, and he knew it was bad. his lungs already hurt most of the time, but since richie was a dumbass, he would smoke more to make it feel better. on the occasions where he didnt have enough money for weed, richie experienced withdrawal like a  _ heroin  _ addict. richie would never do heroin. if richie so much as tried heroin, hed be dead in less than twenty-four hours.

_ “youve got such a great personality,”  _ richie stifled a laugh.  _ “and i think you arent seeing that now you actually have a support system of sorts. me and eddie arent perfect, but we care about you. if you have something on your mind, hit us up. well talk through it. but we wont yell at you for being funny, like sharon.” _

richie was smiling wider than he had in awhile.

“thanks. that, uh, that means a lot to me.” richie sounded apathetic but he hoped his smile translated through the phone. 

_ “alrighty, i gotta go get homework done.”  _ shit. richie suddenly got incredibly anxious as he remembered all of the homework he had to do, but then remembered he hadnt done his homework since seventh grade.  _ “stay safe, richie rich.” _

richie giggled at the nickname. 

“bye, beverly.”

he almost dropped the joint scrambling to get up. he opened the message beverly had sent him and had never pressed ‘add friend’ quicker. he sat and stared at the posters on his wall while he waited for a notification. 

his phone buzzed next to him. 

‘ _ eddie k. added you back’ _

richie wanted to kill himself over how excited he got. he immediately opened the app, but then put his phone down. usually hed just send a picture of his wall, but he wouldnt do that for eddie. ew, that was so fucking gay, but no, it wasnt!! eddie was going through a lot, richie wasnt going to be a total dick so-

eddie snapped richie first. 

richie opened it immediately.

eddie took the picture of himself in his mirror, and he was outstretched a little on his floor with his arm outstretched giving a peace sign. richie noticed a surplus of stickers on the border of his mirror. the picture was almost exactly like one that beverly had sent him, which richie couldnt decide whether it was a coincidence or not. 

he wanted to reply with something worthwhile, and he looked at his mirror. he tried to think that the smoke wouldn’t be that obvious, but he ended up gently snuffing out the end of the joint and sending a picture of his wall (exactly what he said he wouldnt do) and:

‘you like stickers?’

he was surprised that eddie responded. this time, though, it was in the chat.

_ ‘yeah, i collect them whenever i go to the doctor’  _ followed by three emojis with the different sized eyes and the tongue sticking out. 

eddie was proving to be much different over the phone than in person. richie sat up and set the half-smoked joint in the ashtray sitting on his desk. that was one of the only things he was actually responsible about. if he didnt take caution with everything he smoked, is house would burn down. then the fire department would come to find richie alone, and then the police would be confused because holy shit richie was  _ really  _ alone.

‘really? how often do you have to go? you dont have to answer if u dont want’ 

‘ _ oh lol dont worry about it. i have to go twice a week. its pretty dumb if you ask me bc its not like they tell me anything new’ _

_ ‘anyway you made us all really worried yesterday. i know its all probably personal so its ok if u dont really go into it lol’ _

eddie was  _ really  _ different over text. the last time they were together, eddie sat with his hands in his lap for the entirety lunch, only sitting up to answer someone if they talked to him. richie couldnt really judge. eddie didnt have to tell anyone that therapy was harder for him than it was for anyone else. richie caught himself making a generalization. fuck sharon and the way she was inside his fucking head, jesus christ.

‘no, its fine i guess. im all good now.’

_ ‘thats good. i was really worried about u when u left. lol sharon kinda crossed the line haha’ _

as quickly as eddie had moved on, richie definitely took note of how he said “i was worried about you”, not “we were worried about you” and he was completely aware he probably looking too deep at it, but he liked to think it was on purpose. 

richie didnt like how quickly he got wrapped up with this fucking kid. eddie didnt really seem to like talking to richie in person (it wasnt hard to fake being nice over text) and for FUCKS SAKE!!! richie didnt even know if eddie was even gay!!! he didnt want to date him, anyway, but that definitely didnt explain why what eddie said meant so much to richie and why richie read so goddamn into everything he said.

‘awwww u were worried about me ;))))))’

richie dove headfirst into that, hoping for a confirmation or at least a flirty text back.

_ ‘duh everyone was u kinda looked upset’ _

fuck fuck fuck fuck richie dove straight into the kiddie pool and now he was on a stretcher being taken back to the hospital and pushed through the swingy doors in the emergency room lobby because eddie responded with a tone that didnt match the way richie was feeling whoop dee fucking doo.

he panicked and scrambled to come up with a good response.

‘wyd?’

HAH! if he wanted to make a good impression on eddie that REALLY wasnt the way to do it because FUCK he sounded like a JACKASS! 

_ ‘im grounded. for like a year probably. lol idk pretty sure my mom has dementia so shell forget about it lol’ _

‘oh shit why r u grounded’

_ ‘dont tell bev this shes kinda on my ass rn bc shes worried about me and stuff but like uhhh were in therapy for a reason lol why is she worried about me outside of it like hahaha shes not my mom’ _

eddie seemed a little uptight.

‘i wont. dont worry were kinda in the same boat here. i think she wants to worry about someone else and make sure theyre ok bc she doesnt like thinking about herself. lmao idk that sounds emo aha’

eddie didnt respond for almost a minute. 

_ ‘ok so my mom doesnt ever let me drive bc she thinks its dangerous and stuff but she will let me sometimes drive to my doctors appointment because we live kinda close and im there so often haha but on thursday when i have my appointment idk i just thought ‘hey, i could literally just not go to this’ and so i didnt go and i went and saw one of my friends.’ _

‘howd she find out?”

_ ‘well im an idiot and i didnt even think about the fact that theyd call her and ask why i missed an appointment for the first time in, like, forever.’  _

richie giggled. he didnt really know why.

‘so ur grounded?’

_ ‘yep. till im thirty probably lol.’ _

richie glanced outside. it was dark. a thought came into his head and made his stomach turn but he honestly had no choice but to suggest it

‘want me to come get u?’

eddie took a moment to respond.

_ ‘are you crazy??? my mom would actually have a heart attack and die if i left, like richie u dont even understand. shed wake up and then actually just die. or shed find me and kill me.’ _

an obscure image came to richies mind of eddies mother taking form as the monster from where the wild things are. 

what a fucked up piece of media. 

richie reread the text.

‘did u say wake up????’

_ ‘Yeah’ _

‘holy shit eds!!! ur blessed with a four hundred pound mother who falls asleep at seven???? and u have NEVER taken advantage if it?????’

richie was already up and walking out the door. if anyone thought that richie would pass this up just because eddie was scared of his mom??? nuh uh. no way. 

_ ‘richie, i really want to, but i just dont think ill get out of it alive. also its a school night lol’ _

‘send me a picture of ur window’

eddie did. it was exactly what richie was hoping. it had a handle with a key lock on it. simple and easy, all richie had to do was explain it to eddie. and also find a way to convince him to do it.

_ ‘my room is on the second floor too’  _

fuck.  _ and  _ get him down the side of his house.

richie grabbed his keys from where they were laying on the table and locked his front door behind him. he suddenly realized that this was probably considered peer pressuring. was it really peer pressuring though if it was for a good cause?

he tried to think of what the good cause was as he climbed into the drivers seat. Richie all of a sudden became very self conscious of his car. it was a two-thousand seven honda that richie bought with his own money the day he got his license for four-thousand dollars. thank god richie was able to find a job working at mcdonalds (he was no longer employed) at fifteen and had been mowing lawns and walking dogs since he was thirteen. richie may have been dumb, but he definitely wasnt stupid. he had known since he was twelve and his mom left that he needed a car.

he watched her drive away and realized that a car was his ticket away from his dad.

trauma aside, richie didnt think eddie would like it. it was dirty. richie reached over and threw all of the trash in the passenger seat into the back of the car.

‘its ok, dont worry. as long as u trust me ull be fine.’

_ ‘mmmmmmmmm :/’  _

richies car started with an awful mechanical whirring sound.

‘cmon eds’ 

_ ‘dont call me eds. my house is the one with the super blue shutters and garage door in monroe court right across from school.’ _

eddie sending his address was all the confirmation richie needed to know that he was down. richie would have asked for maybe, dunno, his actual address, but he couldnt have gotten more specific. their school was on this long street, and obviously, there were streets into another neighborhood on the other side, but monroe court was literally just  _ there _ . nothing branched off of it and it was just a culdesac. their school was across the street from a heavily wooded area, where the neighborhood and the culdesac were. it was shady as fuck. 

'im driving now so ill be there in like ten minutes’

richie didnt mention that he could get there in five if he speeded. which he did. he waited outside for a bit before he texted eddie again.

‘which one is urs again?’

_ ‘blue shutters. third one from the left.’ _

richie didnt know if eddie meant from his left or from eddies left, but it wasnt like there were an absurd number of houses he had to look at. when he did see it, he made his way over. he giggled a little to himself. the whole thing reminded him of the first time he had ever snuck out during his freshman year. he had started hanging out with a few upperclassmen, who ran around almost every night just because their parents didn’t really give a shit either. he still remembers looking out his window and seeing the group of them, all giggling and smoking and it was the first time richie felt wanted. 

a part of him knew he couldnt do that for eddie. another part wanted to. he figured that beverly had already done it for him, if eddie had been as lonely as richie was when therapy started.

‘which window?’ 

the light turned on in the top corner room. richie examined the window for a moment, and was honestly surprised that eddie hadnt been sneaking out his whole life. he had a roof right underneath the window, and a tree was right at the corner of the house. 

richie giggled as eddie came into view, his head down looking at his phone.

_ ‘what now?’ _

richie analyzed the house for one more moment. 

‘ur window has a latch on it, right?’ 

in response, eddie opened the window. he leaned out of it and waved at richie. 

“what. do. i. do.  _ now _ ?” eddie whisper-yelled down to him. richie covered his mouth as he laughed, which was weird because it honestly wasn’t even funny. he ran up below his window and grinned.

“what doth light come from your window breaks!”

“thats-” eddie covered his mouth and started laughing. richies heart pounded and he was smiling so wide it hurt. “thats not the line, stupid.”

richie put his hands on his hips, looking away from eddie and into the front window of his house. there were no lights on. he looked back up at eddie. 

“what is it, then, shakes?”

“what the hell is ‘shakes’??” eddie crossed his arms and leaned on them, his head and shoulders out of the window. 

“shakes as in willy shakes. yknow, father of literature?”

“ive literally never heard anyone call shakespeare the ‘father of literature’. but seriously, what do i do now?”

“climb out.” 

“what?!” 

“literally just climb out. if you wanna go check and make sure your mom is still asleep, be my guest.”

it was only ten thirty. it was weird to think that eddies mom was already asleep. maybe she drank. richie wouldnt ask.

“it’s fine,” eddie frowned and put his hands firmly on the windowsill. he pushed himself up and his leg swung up over onto the roof, and once he was fully sitting out of his window, he glared down at richie. “you didnt tell me it was ten fucking degrees outside.”

“celsius maybe. but ok, so youre gonna go down the tree, right?” 

“no, the trees really weak. the last time i climbed on it. it broke.”

“last time?!” richie ran over to the edge of the roof as eddie dangled his legs over it. “what the fuck do you mean the last time?” 

“i mean the last time.” eddie looked at the ground for a moment. “move over.” 

richie honestly just wanted to see this actually go through. if he could only put into words how surprised he was that eddie actually jumped off his roof. 

“what the fuck?!” richie laughed, but covered his mouth because he almost forgot that they were still in front of eddies house with his mom sleeping inside. “are you or are you not the same eddie kaspbrak who nearly cried the first time i complimented him on his socks?”

“jesus, its not that big of a deal. can we actually get in your car or are we just gonna sit in my front yard all night?” for effect, eddies teeth chattered.

“yeah, yeah of course.”

richie didnt really know what to say once they were sitting down.

“where are we going?”

“wherever the hell you want.” richie leaned his arm against eddies seat and raised an eyebrow at him. “i forced you out of your house, right? i might as well let the lady choose where we go?”

eddie giggled. 

“aw, i always hoped a boy would show up to my house at eleven at night only to coerse me out of my bedroom window. how romantic.”

richie turned his head away from eddie and hoped he couldnt see that he was blushing- but what the fuck??? 

“okay, i just have to ask about the fact that you literally just casually jumped out of your fucking window.”

eddie blew a raspberry. “oh, yeah.”

“like, i hope im not being crazy, but if i recall,” richie made his voice high. “‘last time i jumped out of my window, my tree broke!!’ you dont peg me as a sneak out kinda type.” 

richies imitation of eddie made eddie laugh a little. “im not gonna tell you now because you made fun of me.”

“alright alright alright. im sorry, eds.” 

“why do you keep giving me weird nicknames?” 

“like what?”

eddie ignored the question. he twisted around to look at richies car. “your car is disgusting.” he leaned back and grabbed something from the backseat and richie prayed it was something normal, not cigarettes or anything. eddie struggled to drag a skateboard up from the backseat, but propped it up between the floor and the dashboard. “do you skateboard?”

he asked ‘you skate?’ but like a nerd.

“oh, yeah, i used to.” richie used to skate all the time. his mom bought him a board when he was nine because she wanted him outside more. once his family got all caught up in his dads trial and shit he lost time for it. “i used to love it. i just stopped after a while because i got busy.” 

eddie hummed in understanding.

“lets go to a skate park.” 

“youre kidding.”

eddie blew a raspberry. “why would i be kidding??” eddie drummed his fingers against the edge of the board. “i wanna see you skate.”

“i literally havent in so long i think ill break my face if i try. i dont wanna embarrass myself in front of a pretty girl now would i?” richie looked over to eddie and batted his eyelashes at him. 

this made eddie chuckle, which made richie blush and look back at the road.

“come on. itll be fun!!” 

richie groaned, but his heart was beating so fast and his legs were suddenly wobbly and shit he really didnt think he could skate because he doubted hed be able to stand up.

“fine. only!” he took a hand off the wheel and pointed it upwards for emphasis. “only if you tell me how you broke your tree branch.”

eddie rolled his head in a circle and sighed exasperatedly. “fine. it was at the beginning of the summer, and, like, my mom was going absolutely crazy about a few hospital bills and the-”

“hospital bills?” richie bit the inside of his cheek. 

“yeah…” eddie shifted. “it isnt anything crazy, id just rather not talk about them too much.” 

“oh, of course. thats not a problem at all.” richie felt like he was doing something wrong. “sorry for interrupting you.”

“its okay,” eddie was now picking at the price sticker that was still on the back of the skateboard after all the years richie had owned it. his first one got too small around when richie was twelve, and he had had that one for nearly five years. jesus christ. “but yeah, my mom was just being fucking crazy about money and stuff and she was thinking about therapy. yknow, our therapy. she didnt want me to go because she didnt want me to meet” he made air quotes. “bad kids” and i was just tired of her. so one of my friends at the time, i dont really talk to him anymore, suggested i sneak out. and i tried to, but the tree branch broke, i sprained both of my wrists, and yeah.”

richies stomach dropped. 

“holy shit, do i need to get you home? like are you gonna-”

“im all good. i just had to get past actually getting out of my room and onto the ground. now im good.”

richie ran a hand down his face.

“am i one of those bad kids your mom doesnt want you hanging out with?”

“hm. probably.” richie could feel eddies eyes on him. “but my other friend was, i dunno, he was something else.”

richie raised an eyebrow, turning into the parking lot of the skate park. the skatepark was an easy walk from the school, so it was only a few minutes from eddies house. their town was small. everything was only a few minutes from everything.

“what do you mean?”

eddie stretched and hissed through his teeth. 

“im sorry youre missing all the juicy details, but again, that was a rough time. some things are best left unsaid. i mean, i might tell you another time, but not now.”

richie parked and leaned against the steering wheel, looking over at eddie. he had the prettiest eyes. 

“eddie, im not a therapist. im not gonna force you to tell me something you dont want me to know.”

eddie frowned a little. after a moment, he sighed. he then reached out his hand and rested it on top of richies and oh god richie could have thrown up right then and there and holy shit? richie had a little bit of a crush on eddie.

“thank you, richie.”

he could listen to the way eddie said his name forever if he could. he was blushing like a madman and he didnt know if eddie could see it but if he could he evidently didnt care too much because he just smiled softly and sat back in his seat.

“what light from yonder window breaks.” 

richie snorted. “what?”

“it is the east, and juliet is the sun.” eddie folded his hands in his lap. “thats the line you butchered when you were at my window.”

“you read shakespeare?” 

“i love everything he wrote.” richie ran a hand through his hair to distract himself from the way that eddies entire face lit up. “i dont really understand any of it, but i like to listen to people read it. it makes more sense that way.”

richie grinned. “ive never tried to read anything by him.”

“ill read romeo and juliet to you one day. its cheesy and stupid but youd like it.” eddies cheeks flushed and he turned away to open the car door. richie followed. 

eddie walked around the car and handed richie the skateboard. 

“i dont even care if you absolutely eat shit. ill think its funny.” 

as richie took the board he noticed how bony his fingers were. he had forgotten that they met at therapy. his chest ached a little and richie was hit with the reminder that eddie was just as sick as richie was. in different ways, definitely, but eddie was wired differently than richie. he had been talking to richie the whole time but his mind could have been on anything else and richie had no way to help him. it hurt. and it was scary to him.

richie smiled at eddie and walked away to inside the actual park, listening to eddies shoes on the pavement behind him. richie was happy, to say the least, and it was refreshing to smile as much as he had been after crying for the past two days straight. richie forgot how nice it was to have people around him. maybe therapy wasnt really helping, but he met beverly and eddie through therapy so maybe it had to be doing something. beverly and eddie were helping him remember what it was like to not be alone. 

he could get used to it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about not updating. school got absolutely insane and i just couldnt find time.   
> this chapter is hella different from the previous ones as its actually pretty happy lmao. i finally got to write some reddie shit so im super happy about that.  
> in a perfect world, id know when the next chapter is, but i honestly have no clue.  
> i hope you all have a wonderful holiday, and i hope you all the best in the new year. stay safe everyone <3


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